


Something Wicked

by Nomme_dePlume



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Demons, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Gods, Gore, M/M, Mating Bond, Minor Character Death, Molestation, Soul Bond, Underage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-08-05 02:57:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16359404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nomme_dePlume/pseuds/Nomme_dePlume
Summary: And all the while, the nine shadows will dance about his body, cajoling, begging, screaming for he of whom they speak to tear himself from his mortal prison:“Release the King of Hell!”





	1. Chapter 1, in which there is pain

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! So, this is my annual Halloween fic, though not necessarily Halloween-themed. It does take place in October, though. Anyway... it'll be multi-chaptered - not sure how many - and hopefully finished on or before Halloween.
> 
> Some detailed warnings, because the tags might not be clear:   
> 1\. There is underage stuff in here, but I'm yet not sure the entire story will take place "underage." But it probably will.  
> 2\. There's probably going to be a lot of bodily fluids - both graphic and non-graphic.  
> 3\. There will be what some people would call "dubcon," and I would not disagree for some of it.  
> 4\. Um... other warnings will be added as necessary.
> 
> If you decide to continue, I hope you enjoy!

It had always been with him.

He wasn’t quite sure what _it_ was, but it was a part of him. A pressure, a pounding, a throbbing that settled in his bones and controlled the rhythm of his heart. It somehow comforted him when he was upset or in distress, much more than his own mother; though, not because it was comforting. But just because it was _there_.

He remembered when he first asked about it – how his mother looked so frightened; how his father told him to disregard it and never mention it again; and how his brother began to check up on him more often in school, with his friends, at night around bedtime. So, he just let it be.

He remembered when he first recognized what it might be. Lying in bed at night, he felt the rhythmic pounding in his bones and noticed how it matched the slow _doki doki_ of his own heart. Was it a heartbeat? Why did he have two?

On the eve of his thirteenth birthday, the dream came, and the subtle pounding of the other heart escalated until, even at the same steady rhythm, it rocked his entire body. It made ripples in his dreamscape, obscuring his vision until all he could discern was fire and blood.

He woke up, he remembered, but he wasn’t fully aware, like he was in a haze. He remembered slowly climbing out of bed, the deep impact of the pounding in his bones making him unstable on his feet. But he somehow made his way down the stairs, out of the front door, and all the way to the old Fire Temple without really knowing what he was about.

He remembered how the stairs seemed to tower over him, climbing almost into the heavens, but before he could begin his climb – he knew that’s what he was supposed to do, because the pounding of the other heart had finally sped up, as if excited that he was so near to the temple – his brother had come out of nowhere, sweeping him up into a tight hug, whispering words of fear and anger that cleared the haze he’d been in. The other heartbeat dwindled back to its steady thrum as he was led away.

His parents were beside themselves when he returned home, and his father yelled at him as his mother held back her tears. And he was so confused, but knew he should feel bad, though he didn’t know for what, so he apologized many times and hung his head as he went back to bed.

The next morning, he awoke with a stomachache. He couldn’t eat the special birthday breakfast his mother had prepared, and the pain only got worse by lunch. His parents took him to the doctor, who couldn’t really find anything wrong and prescribed him some medication to counteract the symptoms. He went to bed without dinner and woke in the middle of the night screaming in pain.

He remembered the utter agony that engulfed his mind and body, so much that not even the ever-present pounding of the other heartbeat could soothe him. It felt like a knife was carving into his stomach, but the excruciating pain didn’t allow for anything but curling in on himself and screaming. He was only vaguely aware of his parents and brother running into his room in alarm before he passed out.

When he woke up, it was to his uncle’s stony face. His shirt was gone, and his boxers had been pulled down to just over his groin, and his uncle’s hand was tracing over his stomach. He saw his parents and brother watching from the other side of his room. And then he looked down at his stomach and saw a black swirl on his skin, surrounded by a circle of symbols with eight prongs branching out from the circle.

A divine eight trigrams seal, his uncle had murmured out once he’d completed his examination, and his mother had choked off a cry of anguish before running from his room. His father left to follow, but his brother stayed behind and watched as his uncle lifted him to a sitting position, pushing on his back to lean him forward between his legs. Then his uncle grabbed his right shoulder with his left hand, reminiscent of a judo hold, and then pain erupted from his shoulder as his uncle began to chant. A bright purple light shone beneath the hand holding him down, and he couldn’t hold back his screams and tears as a searing heat burned into his skin.

The seal of heaven, his uncle had said later to his parents – three tomoe in a tight circle on his skin where his shoulder met his neck. It was supposed to protect him from the eight trigrams seal, though protect him from what no one would explain.

But the pain in his stomach stopped, so he was somewhat relieved. And the pulsing, pounding, throbbing presence of the other heartbeat was silenced, at which he was slightly saddened, though he could hardly tell why.

Later that night, the old Fire Temple burned to the ground, and he inexplicably cried himself to sleep every night for the next three months.

~*~

_His face is covered in blood from a gash above his eye, a broken nose, and a busted lip. The other eye is swollen shut from being punched one too many times, but the most annoying pain is the stinging of his scalp where a hand is fisting his hair tightly. And despite feeling the pain, he’s numb._

_He watches as a blond-haired man runs his blood-covered hands all over his mother’s naked body, painting sentences onto her skin in smudged characters –_ You deserve this. Your death is art. _– while another in skeleton face paint begins to shave the skin off her legs with a long knife._

 _He listens to her blood-curdling screams as she’s flayed alive, barely heard over the gleeful cackling of the two men. He hears the faint screams of his father and brother as they beg –_ beg _– for them to leave her alone._

 _He smells the combination of blood, sweat, urine, semen,_ every bodily fluid imaginable _– and the unusually quick-to-appear scent of rotting flesh. Or maybe he’s just been sitting here, experiencing the death of his loved ones around him, far longer than he thinks._

_He tastes his own blood and tears as they flow down his face and into his mouth, the copper and salt mixing to overwhelm the bitter aftertaste of vomit and adrenaline._

_And he feels as another hand touches his shoulder, a heavy weight that slides over his shoulder and down his chest, the fingers pressing harder against a nipple on their way. The fingers reach the hem of his shirt and slip underneath, blindly tracing a pattern against his flesh that he is all too familiar with since his thirteenth birthday._

_And he’s numb to it all._

_It’s a dream – he knows this. But even dreams should have some sort of psychological effect on him – he knows this, too. Maybe it’s because he’s had this dream every night since he turned sixteen, and the images and sensations were rote._

_Even the deep voice that whispers in his ear as someone leans down over him – “You could have prevented all of this if you’d only given us what we asked for.”_

_His response is automatic – “I don’t have it.”_

_The reaction is brutal, the hand dragging down his stomach and into his pants, grasping his flaccid penis in a painful grip – “_ Him _! You have_ him _, and we want him.”_

_He doesn’t even flinch. He knows what’s coming. His fingers will be broken one by one; he’ll be whipped and burned until the original color of his skin is lost beneath red and black; his limbs will be drawn until near the breaking point – not quite quartered, but all his joints will be dislocated._

_And all the while, the nine shadows will dance about his body, cajoling, begging,_ screaming _for he of whom they speak to tear himself from his mortal prison:_

_“Release the King of Hell!”_

~*~

Sasuke blinked his eyes open, staring blankly at his ceiling as the images in his dream slowly faded from his mind.

He felt nothing as he reviewed the dream for somewhere around the ninetieth time. Each time his family was tortured and mutilated, each time he was beat up and molested, and each time he didn’t have what they were looking for – this “King of Hell.” 

Momentarily – fleetingly – he wondered if he’d be able to feel anything if his uncle’s seal wasn’t branded on his shoulder.

He turned his head and looked at the clock on his bedside table – 10:43am. He blinked and then sluggishly pushed his blankets off, slowly sitting up and bringing his feet to the floor. Shaking the groggy feeling away, Sasuke stood and made his way into the hall and, after a quick trip to the bathroom, down the stairs toward the kitchen. As he yawned and stretched his back slightly, he pushed a hand under his shirt to scratch at a persistent itch on his stomach.

“Well, good morning, sunshine,” someone said from the table in the breakfast nook, and Sasuke looked up to see his uncle sitting there, one leg crossed over the other as he casually sipped his coffee and read the paper. His giant wolfdog was sprawled out on the floor by his chair, his head only momentarily lifting to gaze at Sasuke before ignoring his presence.

“Obito,” Sasuke said in greeting as he moved further into the kitchen, snagging a banana from the bowl on the counter. “What are you doing here?”

He sat down across from Obito, waiting for the man to answer him. Obito’s hesitancy to answer told Sasuke that he was carefully thinking of an answer – clue number one that whatever came out of his mouth wasn’t going to be the truth – so he studied Obito in turn. His uncle was missing his left eye, the gaping socket covered by an eyepatch, and the right side of his face was covered in scars caused by an accident that no one in the family ever mentioned.

“Itachi called me,” Obito said finally. “He said you’re having nightmares.”

Sasuke was momentarily stunned by what sounded like the truth for once before his words registered, and he scowled as he peeled his banana. “Itachi should keep his mouth shut.”

“What kind of nightmare is it?” Obito asked, unphased by Sasuke’s downturn in mood.

Sasuke shrugged as he broke off a piece of banana and popped it into his mouth. “It’s nothing,” he mumbled. 

Obito watched him for a minute before turning his attention back to his newspaper. He flipped the page and said, “Take Kakashi for a walk for me, will you?”

Sasuke scowled as he swallowed the last of his breakfast. “Why can’t you walk your own dog?”

“Because you’re the shitty teen with nothing better to do,” Obito said lightly, without any meanness to his words.

Sasuke grunted and stood from the table, detouring to the trash to toss his banana peel before heading upstairs to pull on some loose sweats and a t-shirt. As he came back downstairs, he called into the kitchen, “Come on, mutt,” and heard the scratching of nails on the tile and the jingling of a dog collar as Kakashi scrambled to meet him at the door as he slipped on his shoes.

Sasuke closed the door behind them, and he and Kakashi headed down to the street, turning onto the sidewalk and sticking to the shaded side. Sasuke tilted his head to contemplate Kakashi, who, despite not being on a leash, stayed right next to him. Obito’s wolfdog had always been rather strange – larger by far than normal dog breeds and also missing an eye, covered by an eyepatch – and Sasuke had always thought the animal far more intelligent than any other he’d ever come across. Not to mention amazingly spry for being as old as he was; he’d been with Obito for many years before Sasuke had even been born.

He was so busy thinking about it that fifteen minutes had gone by before he realized that Kakashi had yet to do his business. With a gruff “Get on with it, mutt,” he nudged Kakashi with his foot and then cursed under his breath when Kakashi veered sharply right onto a new sidewalk and started to trot away. Sasuke followed him, jogging slightly to catch up, but stopped abruptly as Kakashi came to a halt and stood facing a massive set of stairs. As Sasuke glanced up, he realized they were the stairs that led to where the Fire Temple once sat.

It hadn’t been rebuilt since it burned down three years ago, and his family did all they could to make sure he didn’t go near it, but it never stopped Sasuke from thinking about it or why he had been drawn there almost unconsciously when he was thirteen. He looked around him subtly, making sure he was alone, before he looked down at Kakashi in question. “Did you want to go up there?” he whispered to the dog.

Kakashi tilted his head before making some sort of rumbling noise in his throat. Then he started up the stairs, pausing a few steps up to look back at Sasuke. Slightly bewildered, Sasuke started up after him and followed as Kakashi continued his ascent. It took a couple of minutes, but they made it to the top, and Sasuke tilted his head up to gaze at the tall torii under which they passed, the red and gold stark against the blue sky beyond.

As he tilted his head back down, he came to a halt as he took in the remains of the temple. The charred skeleton of the building had been left standing, and the scorched earth around it still looked hot to the touch, though he was sure that was some trick of the light. His attention was snagged by Kakashi padding up the burnt steps and into the darkened temple, and, concerned with how Obito would blame him for any harm that came to his dog, Sasuke quickly but cautiously followed, his steps hesitant as he tried to find stable ground.

“Kakashi,” Sasuke whispered into the sun-dappled darkness of the temple. He looked around him, noticing that any tapestries that had been in the temple were long gone, but the statues, though slightly melted, were still intact – the most impressive of which was the large, golden statue of a many-tailed fox that Sasuke was surprised had not been stolen by criminals in the past three years.

It was by this statue that Sasuke found Kakashi. The dog was looking up at it, and Sasuke stopped next to him, looking at the dog before looking once again at the statue. The fox was reared up on its hind legs, its tails fanned out behind it as it roared. Sasuke looked at it a moment, wondering what it could possibly symbolize, before looking back down at Kakashi. But as his eyes shifted down, they caught on something underneath the soot from the fire: carvings in the stomach of the fox that – Sasuke swallowed as his left hand came up to his own stomach – matched his seal.

Slowly, he reached his right hand up and touched his fingers to the carvings on the statue. He paid no mind to the ash and soot that came off on his fingertips as he moved them back and forth over them, but as he continued to touch, it became rubbing, and as soon as his whole hand touched the carvings, his seal suddenly lit up under his shirt and began to burn.

Sasuke hissed and ripped his hand away from the statue to have it join his other on his stomach. But the burning slowly increased in intensity until Sasuke collapsed in pain and writhed on the ground, curled around his gut and screaming, much as he had when he was thirteen and the seal had first appeared. And just when he thought he’d be ripped apart by the pain, the seal on his shoulder let out a purple light, and it sent some sort of pulse throughout his body that tried to combat the pain in his stomach. But the other seal… fought back was all Sasuke could really think to call it, but he was still consumed by pain in mind and body.

Over the sound of his own screaming, Sasuke was vaguely aware that Kakashi had started howling. Even in his current state of mind, he was aware that it wasn’t an ordinary howl. But before he could really discern what was going on with the dog, he felt his consciousness slipping away.

 

TBC


	2. Chapter 2, in which there is myth

_The nine are gathered around his broken body. The screams of his parents and brother have been silenced, and the only sound he can really hear is his own breathing – harsh and rattling with blood in his lungs. Not enough to drown him, but enough to make breathing difficult. They’ve done the usual – the broken fingers, the whipping and the burning, and the dislocation of his limbs. He can’t move, but because it’s a dream, he knows he’ll still be able to act it all out to the gruesome end._

_The taunting starts – “Your loved ones are dead because you won’t release him.”_

_His response is the usual – “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_

_The one in face paint leans over him and runs the sharp blade of his knife – already soaked in his mother’s blood – across his chest, slicing through the raw skin, carving an X. The seal is visible on his stomach since they’d removed most of his clothes, and it begins to glow. There is a collective gasp of excitement._

_The seal on his shoulder reacts, the purple glow lighting his tormentors’ faces eerily, and his mutilated skin is covered by what looks to be small shadows that race outward from the tomoe and toward the swirl. They calm the glow of the eight trigrams seal, as he knew they would, and he hears an angry growl near his ear._

_The man with the face paint twists across his body and plunges the knife into his shoulder where the seal is still glowing, and he screams in agony as the man doesn’t just yank it out but pulls it down, creating a gaping wound and breaking his clavicle._

_Angry words are hissed – “If he won’t give us what we want, we should just kill him.”_

_And that’s how the dream normally ends – with his death. Strangely enough, it’s not always the same person that ends his life, but it’s always painful and drawn out._

_But this time – right as one of them leans forward to begin the final torture – the nine figures freeze in place, and the dreamscape darkens. He can still see, but everything is dim, almost eclipsed. That’s decidedly not normal._

_A boyish voice, deep but pitched higher than his own, slithers out of the shadows – “I can help you out, you know.”_

_He cants his head slightly. He doesn’t have a response._

_The voice laughs – “I would love to help you. Even before your majority, you’re graceful, beautiful, and blood is_ definitely _your color. But you would have to pay the price.”_

_He swallows, ignoring the pain; he finally knows what to say – “Who are you? How can you help?”_

_He doesn’t receive an answer – at least not vocally. After a moment, he notices something slithering out of the shadows – nine somethings that crawl up the frozen bodies and wrap around their necks._

_The voice comes back, a husky whisper close enough to rustle the hairs at the back of his neck – “It would be so easy. They play at being powerful, but if we were together, we could so easily bathe in their blood.”_

_He watches as whatever has been wrapped around their necks begins to constrict, slowly cutting off their air, and he realizes that while they are frozen, they are still very much cognizant. Their eyes begin to bulge as their faces turn pale – so not only air, but blood is also being cut off. He can see the futile struggling of their hands to move, to tear the things from their necks, and then all nine go limp, and they’re dropped unceremoniously to the ground._

_Something wraps around him from behind, something like arms – an almost intimate embrace. He feels hot breath on his neck, and it’s strange that he can even feel something that minute under all the pain radiating from every inch of his body._

_The voice whispers in his ear, though it’s a different voice, low, rough, gravelly, evil, and yet he somehow knows it’s from the same source – “This is what I can do for you when the time comes.”_

_He’s starting to slip from the dream, so he asks again – “Who are you?”_

_An amused growl rumbles around him, and the nine… appendages are flailing just in his peripheral – “You know who I am.”_

_And he thinks he does._

_The King of Hell._

~*~

Sasuke slowly woke up, blinking sluggishly at his own ceiling. His mind rewound past the dream to where he last knew himself to be – the Fire Temple – and he sat up quickly in bed, hissing as he pulled several already sore muscles. He looked around and found Obito sitting quietly at his desk, flipping through a suspiciously familiar orange book that Sasuke had seen prominently displayed at an adult book store several years ago.

“Where did you get that?” was the first thing out of his mouth, his shock over finding that garbage in his room overruling his curiosity at what happened.

He saw Obito’s brow twitch in annoyance. “From a mangey dog.”

Sasuke knew from experience that he’d get nothing better than that, so he moved on to the other question. “What happened?”

Obito didn’t answer immediately – considering his response again. After a moment, he sighed and set the book on Sasuke’s desk, ignoring the glare Sasuke sent him at the movement. “Tell me what the nightmare is that you’ve been having.”

Sasuke narrowed his eyes. “Why does that matter?”

“You tell me what you’ve been seeing, and I’ll tell you why it matters.”

Sasuke let out a huff before shooting a quick glance at the door. “Mom and Dad? Itachi?”

Obito shook his head. “Not here. Just you and me. And Kakashi.” As if summoned, the wolfdog walked into Sasuke’s room and sat at Obito’s feet, his one eye staring at Sasuke intently. Sasuke stared back until Obito prompted him to speak.

Sasuke looked up at Obito, saw the serious glint in his eye, and sighed. “There are these people – nine of them. I can see little details like hair color and things, but I don’t know that I could really say what they look like. But they’re asking me for something and torturing me, Mom, Dad, and Itachi when I can’t give it to them. Then we all die.”

“What are they asking for?” Obito asked quietly, but Sasuke had a strange feeling he already knew.

Sasuke shrugged. “Someone they call the King of Hell.”

Kakashi let out a low growl, startling Sasuke into looking down at him, but a sharp command from Obito made Kakashi quiet down.

“And they kill you at the end? Which one?”

Sasuke quirked an eyebrow at the question, wondering why that mattered. “It’s never the same.”

Obito tilted his head, a frown pulling at his lips. “Never the same? How often have you had this nightmare?”

Sasuke looked away. Obito called him sharply, demanding an answer, so he answered quietly, “A lot. Every night since my birthday.” Obito’s sharp breath made Sasuke turn his attention to him, and he thought he saw worry in his eye. But then his face smoothed out, and he turned to lean on his legs, his hands folded in front of him.

“Those are premonitions, Sasuke, not nightmares. It’s your sense trying to warn you.”

“My sense?” Sasuke asked.

Obito sat up and looked at Sasuke’s open door and then down at Kakashi. Some sort of silent communication seemed to happen between the two – which was ridiculous, because Sasuke, for all Kakashi’s high intelligence, knew that he was just a dog – before Obito focused on Sasuke again.

“Your parents don’t want you to know what I’m about to tell you, Sasuke, so this will be between you and me, got it?” Sasuke nodded slowly, and Obito leaned back, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Millenia ago, gods and demons roamed this earth, moving from one divine battle to another trying to destroy each other, and humans lived however they could to avoid confrontation with either race. And then the rabbit goddess Kaguya fell in love with a human lord and bore his children – demigods who the demons realized were easy targets. Knowing she needed a way to protect her children, Kaguya stole the fruit of the demons’ sacred tree and ate it, which added great demonic powers to her divinity. The other gods condemned this act, and the demons were outraged, and they briefly joined forces to bring Kaguya down.

“But her powers were unimaginable, and she brought both gods and demons to their knees. She killed without mercy, and the gods that survived fled back to the heavens, but the demons had nowhere to go and were subjugated under her rule. And it was this act that woke the King of Hell from his slumber.”

Sasuke’s breath hitched at the mention of that title, the screams from his dreams and that low, gravelly voice echoing in his ears.

“Angered by her actions, the King of Hell waged war against Kaguya, and it lasted many years as they found themselves evenly matched. But humans were caught up in the war, as well, which angered Kaguya’s eldest son, Hagoromo, and he and his brother Hamura sided with the King of Hell. They were finally able to bring Kaguya down, but rather than kill her – the King of Hell’s wish – Hagoromo beseeched the gods to imprison her, and they combined their powers to seal her weakened spirit within a celestial body, to be flung to the farthest reaches of the heavens. But Hagoromo was heartbroken at the thought of his mother being exiled, so Hamura further beseeched the gods to have her remain near them, and, acquiescing to his pleas, they allowed her to stay close, and she became the moon.”

Obito stopped his tale to take a few breaths, his eyes trained on Sasuke, who, for the most part, wondered what the hell any of that had to do with his nightmare. “That’s some mythology you have there,” he said.

Obito shrugged. “You can believe it or not, but I am offering you an explanation to all the things that have been happening to you since your thirteenth birthday.”

“Before,” Sasuke murmured softly, remembering the comforting rhythm of that other heartbeat that he hadn’t felt in three years. He looked up, briefly noticing Kakashi was eying him again, and asked, “What does all that have to do with me?”

“Hagoromo and Hamura’s progeny spawned some of the most prolific bloodlines in our history: the Senju, the Uzumaki, the Hyuuga, and the Uchiha, to name a few, though only the Hyuuga and Uchiha have survived to this day.”

Sasuke’s eyes widened as he took in his uncle’s words. “Are you saying our family is descended from the gods?”

Obito smiled bitterly. “Yes, and we have paid for it many times over. We are known to those in certain circles as the cursed clan and have been persecuted off and on throughout history. But that changed for a time when Uchiha Madara was born. He somehow had inherited the powers of Hagoromo, and he used them in much the same fashion as Kaguya once had. And, as you can imagine, this angered the King of Hell once again, who returned to wage another war against Kaguya’s descendant. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Madara’s powers, though not enough to kill the King of Hell, were enough to seal him away. But with his last strength, the King of Hell further cursed our clan and left us with a prophecy.”

Sasuke’s heart was beating fast. He thought he knew where this was going, but he needed Obito to say it. “And?” he whispered.

“A descendant of the cursed clan will be chosen as his and will be the portal to the underworld that would facilitate his freedom. Basically – Madara’s seal would not hold him forever, and the Uchiha descendant that bore his symbol would be the harbinger of his revenge.”

Sasuke’s hand moved slowly to cover his stomach. Revenge? Is that it? Sasuke recalled the way that voice had whispered in his ear in the dream, the embrace near the end. He’d been under no delusions that the thing behind him had _cared_ about him, but that offer to help Sasuke – was that just a seduction tactic to get Sasuke to release him, a means to an end?

Sasuke shook his head. Like he’d even know how to release him if he could. His hand moved to the seal on his shoulder, and he looked up at Obito. “What do you mean by ‘his’?”

Obito shrugged. “No one really knows. If I had to guess, you would be a servant of some kind. Maybe a vessel.”

Sasuke furrowed his brow. “So, I’m the portal, right? That’s what this is on my stomach? And that’s why Mom and Dad were so scared and why they had you put the seal on me?”

“Pretty much,” Obito said. He nodded at Sasuke’s hand on his shoulder. “That seal reacts when the portal tries to activate. For the most part, it should keep the King of Hell at bay.”

“For the most part?” Sasuke repeated.

Obito hesitated, his eye glancing down at Kakashi for a moment. “Well, what Mikoto and Fugaku don’t realize is that now that the portal has appeared, the King of Hell won’t remain inactive. At some point, he’ll recognize the seal I placed on your shoulder for what it is and work to overpower it. And that’s the best-case scenario.”

Sasuke’s eyes widened. “What could be worse than that?”

“The nine in your premonition removing it themselves,” a voice said, and Sasuke was amazed to find it came from Kakashi. He watched as a blue light engulfed the canine, and when it faded out, a man stood in his place. He had silver hair that defied gravity, and the eyepatch remained. He had on a skin-tight shirt with a collar that rose over his chin and covered his mouth and nose, underneath a black trench coat with silver buckles and zips that hung open. His hands were in the pockets of the coat, a nonchalant stance – calm, as if Sasuke wasn’t sitting on his bed fighting the urge to scream and faint.

“Damn it, Kakashi. Your timing is shit,” Obito groused as he stood from the desk chair. With a sigh, he turned to Sasuke. “Sorry, Sasuke. I hadn’t meant for you to find out this way.”

“Find out what?” he asked. Or he thought he asked; his voice was a little faint in shock.

Obito nodded his head at the man. “This is Kakashi. He’s a wolf demon and my summons, as well as a servant for the King of Hell.”

Kakashi tilted his head. “I’ve long shadowed the Uchiha for signs of the portal that would allow my king to return. But for the past few generations, there have been whispers of a cult looking to release him and then harness his powers for their own purpose. I need to know every detail from your premonition, Sasuke. You humans may have worse things to worry about than my king returning on his own.”

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the plot was kind of simple when I first thought of this story. Now I'm thinking not so much. Might not be done by Halloween. But that's okay. You'll stick with me, right? ;)


	3. Chapter 3, in which there is blood

Sasuke’s family had returned very shortly after that conversation. Kakashi had turned back into a dog, and Obito had warned Sasuke not to mention anything he’d been told and seen to his family. So he’d been left to his own thoughts for several days, and he found that while thinking on everything Obito and Kakashi had said, his hand would idly trace over the seal – _portal_ – on his stomach. 

If what Obito had told him was true, the King of Hell was something to fear, and there was real need for the seal on his neck. But the more he thought about it, the more he wondered if the fear was well-founded. So what if the King of Hell wanted revenge on the Uchiha clan? There wasn’t much of a clan left, anyway. It was just Sasuke and his family and a couple of cousins and uncles. Not that Sasuke was okay with being killed because of something some long-dead ancestor did.

And if that had been the King of Hell talking to him in his dream that day, he didn’t really seem like he was after revenge. Yes, he said there’d be a price to pay for releasing him, but it hadn’t screamed of death and destruction to Sasuke. But if it wasn’t his life he’d be paying with, what was the price for releasing him? That might be good to know, since, if the premonitions came true, those shadowy figures would do everything they could to force Sasuke to do just that.

Sasuke was distracted from his thoughts as his phone chimed next to him on his bed. He moved his hand from his stomach with a click of his tongue at the interruption – and then with a second click as he realized he’d been tracing the seal again without thought – and reached for the device. The lock screen showed him he’d received a new text message, and with a swipe of his thumb in the unlock pattern, his home screen came up. He pressed on the messaging icon and brought up his unread messages.

It was from Ino.

_Im wsted. Don wnt 2b here nemore. Cum get me?_

Sasuke sneered at the horrible spelling – even more so at the unfortunate spelling choice she’d made for ‘come’ – but then sighed. Ino was arguably his closest friend (the argument being for ‘friend’ more so than ‘close’), and he would feel slightly guilty to leave her on her own and something happen to her.

With a muted groan, Sasuke rolled off his bed and grabbed his wallet from his dresser. He shoved it and his phone in the pocket of his ratty jeans and grabbed his hoodie before walking out of his room and down the hall a bit. He knocked on his parents’ door.

“Come in,” his mom called. He pushed open the door and found his parents sitting up in bed, his dad reading a book and his mom turning her attention from some horror movie on TV. “Hi, dear,” she said with a smile. “What’s up?”

“Ino texted me that she needs a ride home from a party. I was wondering if I could borrow the car,” he said as he pulled his hoodie over his head.

His dad looked up at him from over his glasses. “And you’re the only person available?”

Sasuke scowled slightly. “I’m her only friend that didn’t go to the party.”

“Oh, hush, Fugaku. He’s doing his friend a favor,” his mom scolded him. She turned her attention back to Sasuke. “Of course, you may borrow the car. About how long will you be gone?”

Sasuke knew where the party was supposedly held, so he calculated the drive there, the search for Ino, the drive to her place, and the drive home in his head and answered, “No longer than an hour.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “Be careful.”

“I will,” he said, pulling the door closed on his way out. He walked down the hall and quickly descended the stairs, grabbing the keys from the hook just inside the kitchen entrance. He moved to the front door and slipped his feet into his worn sneakers before exiting into the brisk night.

It was late, just before midnight, so he wasn’t surprised to find that the trick-or-treating was already wrapped up and children nowhere in sight. It made it easier on him, really, that he wouldn’t have to be on the lookout for wayward children as he drove to the party.

He slipped behind the wheel of his mom’s car and put the key into the ignition, pulling his seatbelt on as the engine warmed up. He quickly muted the radio, not in the mood to listen to his mother’s taste in music, but also knowing better than to mess with her settings, and carefully backed out of the driveway and into the street.

He let his thoughts wander as he drove, one minute thinking he’d stop at the convenience store on his way home and the next wondering what had happened to make Ino want to leave a party early. If she left a party early, it was because she’d found company with whom to spend the rest of the night. Getting drunk and wanting to leave was abnormal for her.

And ‘abnormal’ was the prevalent thought as he drove up to the house where the party was and parked. He took in the few partygoers standing out in the yard, but they weren’t moving – just stood there, their shoulders rounded as they hunched over themselves. Ignoring the foreboding feeling that washed over him, Sasuke got out of the car and made his way up the walk, taking in the people on the lawn.

Maybe they weren’t people like he’d thought? Maybe Halloween decorations were just a lot more detailed than they used to be. Maybe these were like, automated zombies that came to life on some sort of timer? Well, Sasuke wasn’t going to get any closer to find out. He was going into the house, find Ino, and beat a hasty retreat.

He knocked on the door, wondering if it could be heard over the thumping music. After a minute of standing there and another knock, he figured it wasn’t and tried the doorknob. It turned easily under his hand, and he tentatively pushed it open and went inside.

The music hit him head on as he walked down the short corridor, and when he reached the large living area where he’d expected to find a raging party, he came up short as he took in the bodies piled on the floor and the blood spatter over the walls. The stench rose up and slammed into him, and he immediately collapsed to his knees and retched over the carpet.

As he coughed up the residual vomit in his throat, his head shot up, his eyes wide and his breathing accelerated, a wild panic stealing over him. His head whipped from side to side, trying to find any reason to the carnage he saw, and his eyes finally landed on two figures at the back of the room. One was dancing to the music, uncaring about the blood squelching underfoot, while the other leaned against the wall. Sasuke could only blame the sheer shock of what he’d walked in on for not noticing them immediately.

They were both male – a long-haired blond and a redhead – and even in his rising panic, Sasuke realized they looked familiar. They were… they were from his dream! Two of the nine shadowy figures that tortured and killed him every night in his sleep.

Just as he tried to stand and run for his life, the blond turned and pinned him with his narrowed blue eye – the other covered by a long, blond bang – a crazed smile on his lips. “Uchiha Sasuke, I presume?” he asked as he started dancing closer.

Sasuke backpedaled, tripping over his own unsteadiness. He slammed back into the sharp point where the two walls came together, hissing through his teeth at the pain. He opened eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed, seeing the blond still dancing his way around the strewn bodies toward him.

As the urge to vomit came over him again, Sasuke clenched his teeth and turned, fleeing back down the hallway and to the front door. He wrenched it open, stumbling through it and out into the yard. He started down the walk back to his car, when, suddenly, the ‘people’ that had stood motionless in the yard moved, their heads popping up simultaneously and zeroing in on Sasuke. Then they all levitated, their limbs hanging awkwardly and an eerie chattering sound filling the air, before flying toward Sasuke.

With a cry, Sasuke stumbled backwards, the things pushing into his space and forcing him back toward the house. With horror, Sasuke realized these faces were familiar, too, and he screamed as one that looked like Kiba reached up and pushed him back through the front door.

He fell backward, expecting to land on the floor, but hit up against a solid and soft object instead. Immediately, he was embraced from behind as arms came up around him, and they shoved something in front of his face. 

It was Ino’s phone.

Two things immediately popped up in his mind amidst the ever-growing panic: either Ino had texted him and then these freaks had gotten her phone or – the more likely option – they’d lured him here with the text. 

_Because, sure, if nine evil freaks tortured you and your family in a premonition, it stands to reason they’d use any means available to get to you in the first place._ He laughed hysterically at the thought in his mind.

“Is she your girlfriend?” His captor laughed, letting the phone drop to the floor, and he was pulled backward into the blood-drenched living room and maneuvered through the bodies until he was at the back of the room where the other still leaned against the wall.

“Victory!” the blond cheered.

“Good,” the redhead said with a nod. “Let’s get out of here.”

“So soon?” the blond asked as the music transitioned from a pulsing techno beat to something slower with a rib-rattling bass. “This bass is giving me a serious chub, and his ass is just right here,” he groaned as he moved behind Sasuke.

At that, Sasuke forced the panic back – knew he had to fight and find a way out of here, call the cops, call Obito, someone…!

He started to struggle, viciously throwing his body left and right, trying to kick out, but all his captor did was laugh. A hand came down and pulled his shirt and hoodie up, the fingers tracing back down his chest and stomach, causing Sasuke to cry out in alarm. But then the seal on his stomach started to glow, and his captor was screaming and pulling his hand back, shaking it as if burned.

“Fuck! You little shit,” was yelled over the music as Sasuke was swung about and slammed into the wall. His head smacked against it hard, and his vision started to black out at the edges. He was dizzy and trying hard not to slide to the ground – didn’t want to land in the puddles of blood, even if his hands were already smeared in it from where he tried to grip the wall.

“Enough, Deidara,” the other one said. “We have to get him to Yahiko.”

“Fine.”

Then he was being grabbed and pushed toward a door to his side, an exit into the backyard. As they stepped outside, the pressure of sound lessening around him, Sasuke shook his head of the remaining lethargy and began to pull back against the grip on his arm. The blond – Deidara – started cursing and turned to use more force.

That was when Sasuke’s aikido training kicked in – _don’t resist_ , they taught him – and when Deidara next pulled, Sasuke went with him, crossing over Deidara’s body and turning the other around, forcing his grip to falter, and Sasuke made a break for it.

But then he heard that chattering again, that terrifying noise that would probably become the soundtrack of his nightmares, and his escape was suddenly blocked by those bodies from out front. Then something was at his back, warm and solid – _déjà vu_ – but smaller than Deidara. The redhead, then. And without much warning, something was slicing into his hip, a hand coming up to smother his cry of pain.

“You’ll come without a fuss, yeah?” Deidara said as he came up from behind him to his side. He looked behind Sasuke. “Don’t hurt him too much, Sasori, my man. I don’t want to have to carry him.”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I’m not letting you leave with him, now isn’t it?” a third voice said, and Sasuke nearly cried in relief when he recognized it. _Kakashi._

The redhead – Sasori – turned them around, putting Sasuke between him and Kakashi, who, with the darkness as his backdrop, looked bright and intimidating as he radiated that blue light Sasuke had seen before. Sasuke bit his lip not to cry out at the extra pain as the knife still embedded in his hip shifted slightly.

“Fucking demon,” Deidara spat from beside him. “This is none of your concern!”

“On the contrary,” Kakashi said blandly with a small tilt to his head.

Then those bodies were flying toward Kakashi, and Sasuke was surprised to see the shimmering of wire in Kakashi’s bright light. They were puppets, he knew that much now, but they were unlike any marionette show Sasuke had ever seen as they twisted about and flew all over, attacking Kakashi and dodging his attacks in return. But then Kakashi’s whole arm lit up with fiery light, and he slashed it through the air, severing the shimmering lines of all the puppets at once, and they fell lifelessly to the ground.

Kakashi set foot down on the ground again, his pose relaxed as he gazed at them, his face unreadable due to the mask. But his one visible eye was hard. The knife in Sasuke’s hip was ripped out harshly, causing Sasuke to scream in pain, and it was brought to his neck.

“Stay back, or I will kill him,” Sasori said calmly.

“By all means, kill him, and ruin whatever plans you had in regard to what he holds,” Kakashi said mildly, a hint of amusement bleeding into his words – calling Sasori’s bluff.

“We can’t beat a full-blooded demon,” Deidara hissed urgently in Sasori’s ear, to which Sasori only grunted, his grip tightening on Sasuke. But then he let go and shoved Sasuke away.

Sasuke landed on the ground heavily, unable to break his fall, another scream ripped from him as his wounded hip slid against the ground. In a haze, he watched as the two men fled from the backyard, and Kakashi ran to his side, a hand placing itself on his shoulder.

“Sasuke, are you okay? Can you hear me? Sasuke!”

The only thing Sasuke could manage in response was a breathy call for Ino, his hand stretching back toward the house, before he lost consciousness.

~*~

_It’s different this time._

_Instead of being caught and forced to watch them torture his family, his family distracts the nine – sacrifices themselves so that Sasuke can run away. It’s shameful, and he hates himself for it, but with his mother screaming desperately at him to do so, he can only obey._

_But there’s nine of them, and his family can’t delay them all._

_He’s being chased, and he knows if they catch him, the nightmare will become what it was before. So when he sees the stairs that lead to the Fire Temple, he moves on instinct, racing up the stairs and through the burnt and crumbling entrance of the temple._

_When he’s inside, he turns and tries to see if there are doors he can close. There are, charred masses that creak and groan as he forces them out of the position they’d been in for the past three years. And when he finally gets them closed, he leans against them, panting and sweating, uncaring of the soot and ash rubbing off on his body._

_Except, when he finally stands up, the doors aren’t blackened from fire but stand solid and red, gleaming in the light – the light that isn’t natural moonlight but the soft, flickering glow of firelight. Sasuke turns and gasps at the sight before him._

_The interior of the Fire Temple is untouched by fire and gleams red and gold everywhere, from the polished floor and wall panels to the tapestries that hang from the ceiling. And the statuary between each red column glints in the light._

_Sasuke’s eyes immediately move to the back of the temple where the large statue of the many-tailed fox stands, its ferocity much more apparent without the soot and ash. But the symbol etched into the fox’s stomach is glowing red._

_Sasuke looks down and sees the red outline of the same symbol through his shirt._

_That low, gravelly voice slips out from somewhere – “Dreaming again, are you?”_

_Sasuke’s head snaps up and looks around. Nothing moves but the shadows and flames._

_He breathes in and out deeply – “Where are you?”_

_The voice laughs – “So you think you know who I am now, to just skip over it this time?”_

_His lips tremble slightly as the name whispers across his mind – “You’re the King of Hell.”_

_His eyes widen and his heart races as the fox statue begins to move and grow. One forepaw lowers to the ground, the gold of the statue slowly replaced by flesh and fur. The fur isn’t quite red – mostly a burnt orange – and it’s mesmerizing to watch as it completely covers the now enormous and live fox, nine tails flailing slowly behind it as blood-red, slit-pupiled eyes stare down at him._

_Lips pull back to show off large, razor-sharp fangs – “Yes, I guess that’s what they call me.”_

_Sasuke backs up until the doors stop him, and despite the danger in front of him, he suddenly remembers the danger following him. He presses a hand to his stomach._

_His voice is shaky – “There are people chasing me. They’re after you.”_

_The King of Hell laughs – “Yes.”_

_Sasuke furrows his brow – “Do you know who they are?”_

_The demon hums thoughtfully – “Not per se, but I know what they seek to gain.”_

_Sasuke inhales sharply – “Tell me! Help me! How can they be stopped?”_

_The King of Hell smiles, if that’s possible – “Release me.”_

_Sasuke’s heart thuds – “But I would have to pay the price.”_

_The smile widens – “Yes.”_

_Now his heart races – “What is the price?”_

_The King of Hell tilts his head a bit – “Come find me, and maybe I’ll tell you.”_

_Sasuke wants to ask what that means – hadn’t he already found him here? – but there’s a sudden pain in his hip, and he looks down to see a gaping wound dribbling blood down his leg._

_It’s reality, trying to pull him back from the dreamscape, though he doesn’t know how he knows that. He looks up again, and the demon is back to being a statue, and the red and gold is starting to fade and blur, leaving Sasuke with many questions and few answers as his mind begins to rise to the surface of his consciousness._

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun! So - this chapter was supposed to be posted on Halloween, just for that tiny reference that it is Halloween in the story, but I couldn't get to it. Oh, well. In other news, the plot is constantly changing in my head, so by the end of this story, some of the tags may disappear. But I won't know until the words wind up on the page. *Shrugs*
> 
> Thanks for the comments and kudos! I hope you enjoyed and stay tuned for more!


	4. Chapter 4, in which there is a name

The sound of his mother’s yelling woke him up, and Sasuke stared blearily at the ceiling for a moment, trying to figure out what she was upset about this time. He moved slightly and hissed when a sharp pain near his right hip stabbed through him. With a frown, he reached down beneath the blanket and carefully rubbed his fingers against his hip, feeling the rough texture of medical tape.

What happened to his hip?

His brow furrowed, and he racked his mind trying to remember what could have possibly happened, when it all came back to him: Ino’s text, the party, the bodies, Kakashi.

With a gasp, Sasuke sat up, hissing when the pain in his hip quadrupled and radiated outward, but he only let it stun him for a moment before he reached for his laptop he’d left on his nightstand. Booting it up, he waited impatiently for his desktop to appear, paying little attention as his mother’s yelling was cut off and rejoined with Obito’s firm voice.

When he finally could, he brought up his browser and began searching for any breaking news, news of bodies, something to indicate what had happened after Kakashi had saved him last night, but the only thing he could find was something about a house burning to the ground.

Why wasn’t there anything about the murders?

At the sound of his door squeaking, Sasuke looked up, watching as Kakashi silently padded in, coming up to the side of his bed. He looked behind him at the door before transforming into the humanoid he’d seen twice now.

“Looking at porn so soon after a near-death experience? I could leave you alone,” Kakashi said with a bit of mirth in his voice, his eye crinkled, indicating he was smiling beneath the mask.

Sasuke reached out and snatched the edge of Kakashi’s dark coat, uncaring as a buckle bit into his hand. “What the fuck happened?” he rasped, only slightly surprised to hear the weakness in his voice. “What happened… Ino…” he trailed off, trying to keep the tears at bay and swallowing the sudden lump in his throat.

Kakashi’s eye lost its humor, and he let out a sigh and shoved his hands into his coat pockets. He nodded his head toward Sasuke’s laptop. “That house that burned – it’s the house from last night. I couldn’t just leave everything as it was.”

Sasuke’s eyes widened, and he choked back a cry. He swallowed several times, blinking continuously, before he was finally able to whisper, “You burnt the house down? All the bodies?” He looked down at the paused video on his computer, the picture that of mostly a large pile of black ash.

“Demon fire,” Kakashi said. “ _Amaterasu_ , as it’s called in our tongue, named after the sun goddess who evaporated the waters to reveal the earth. It burns until there’s nothing left.”

“What… what about their parents?” he asked quietly, hesitantly. He couldn’t believe all those people had been burned into nothing. People were going to notice they were missing – probably knew where they’d been last night and that the house had burned down!

“They’ve been placed under an illusion,” someone said behind Kakashi, who moved aside to reveal his brother.

“Itachi,” Sasuke said in a weird greeting/question hybrid.

Itachi came forward and sat at the foot of Sasuke’s bed. “Kakashi brought you back, and Obito spent all night identifying the party-goers and their families and anyone familiar with them. He only just woke up.” Itachi placed a hand on Sasuke’s forehead and frowned. “Are you feeling okay, Sasuke?”

Sasuke grunted and batted Itachi’s hand away. “What do you mean about an illusion?”

Itachi lowered his hand and sighed. “Anyone who knew any of those people are now in a state of mind that has wiped away memories of them and blinds them to reminders.”

Sasuke stared at Itachi wide-eyed. “How is that even possible?”

“ _Tsukuyomi_ ,” Kakashi said, drawing Sasuke’s attention. “Named after the sun goddess’ brother, who lulled her to sleep every day so that she wouldn’t scorch the earth that she had created.” He sighed. “This is the _Mugen Tsukuyomi_ , to be specific – used to influence a large number of subjects for an undetermined amount of time.”

Sasuke looked down at his computer, trying to process everything. He’d been lured into a trap, his classmates had been murdered, and now Itachi was telling him that when he next saw Ino’s parents, they’d have no idea she ever existed?

But wait. How did Itachi know about it?

Sasuke looked up. “How do you know about this?” At Itachi’s calm stare, Sasuke bristled and asked, “How long have you known about all of this?”

Itachi shrugged. “The history of our clan? Since I was five. What’s happening to you? Since you were thirteen. Mom refused to give Obito information about what had happened before she called him over, and I told him in exchange for everything he knew about the seals and what they meant for you.”

Sasuke felt anger begin to eat away the disbelief inside him. “Why was I the only one who didn’t know?” he yelled, which alerted his parents that he was awake, as they came barging into his room soon after the outburst, Obito right behind them.

His mom glared at Kakashi until he backed away from Sasuke’s bed, and then she sat down beside him. “My darling, Sasuke! I’m so sorry this happened to you! But we’re going to beseech the gods to remove your curse,” she said as she pulled him into a gentle hug. “Obito will perform a ceremony, and-”

“I’ll do no such thing, Mikoto,” Obito growled from the door. He was leaned against the jamb, his arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his face. “The gods forsook this world millennia ago and will not risk the wrath of the King of Hell.”

“Don’t speak that name in this house!” his mother shrieked. “The gods may have forsaken the land, but they will not abandon their own!”

“Don’t dare to tell me about the gods!” Obito retorted harshly, and his mother flinched slightly against him. An awkward moment of silence passed before Obito cleared his throat. “Sasuke’s powers are already awakening,” he said more calmly. “He’s been foreseeing the future for months now, and you are all in danger. The gods are of no use to us.” He shot a look at Kakashi. “We may have no choice but to unseal and open the portal.”

“No!” His mother tightened her hold on him, and Sasuke clenched his teeth to keep the pained yelp in his throat.

“They’ve already come after him, Mikoto! Releasing the King of Hell will-”

“I forbid it! I will not sacrifice my child to save myself!” His mom let out a sob, one hand coming up to her face to cover her mouth. Then she quickly stood from his bed and left the room, shoving Obito aside harshly. His dad followed quietly after a solemn look in Sasuke’s direction.

That left him, Itachi, Kakashi, and Obito in silence, until Sasuke closed his laptop and cleared his throat. “The two men who attacked me last night,” he started, looking up to see he had the men’s undivided attention. “They were from my… premonitions.”

“Damn it!” Obito cursed quietly, coming more fully into the room.

“I think – I think we do need to release him,” Sasuke continued quietly, meeting Obito’s searching gaze unflinchingly. “But he said there was a price to pay.”

“You’ve spoken to him?” Kakashi asked in wonder, kneeling by his bed.

Sasuke nodded. “He said to come find him and that he would tell me what I needed to do.” He looked at each of them in turn. “But how do I find him?”

“Find him?” Obito asked with a frown. “It would be impossible to find where Madara sealed him all those centuries ago.”

Kakashi shook his head. “I don’t think that’s what he meant.” He looked down at Sasuke’s covered stomach before meeting his eyes again. “I’m not sure how you’ll pull it off, but as the chosen one, I know you can. Just keep in mind, Sasuke – it’s a portal, and portals go both ways.”

~*~

“Portals go both ways, Sasuke,” Sasuke mimicked Kakashi in a childish voice as he fell back onto his bed in frustration. Fat lot of good that piece of information did him when he _didn’t know how to use it_. 

That didn’t stop him from trying, though. He’d had nothing better to do after his mother practically tied him to his bed so that he didn’t reopen his wound. (They’d not gone to the hospital in order to avoid probing questions like _where did you get stabbed?_ or _what did the assailant look like?_ Sasuke could always have lied, of course, but lies never quite worked out for him in the end.)

But after several attempts – attempts of he knew not what, though – to go through the portal or whatever, he was left with a big, fat nothing. And not for the first time, Sasuke had to wonder if it had something to do with the seal on his shoulder. But while Obito seemed to be in favor of releasing the King of Hell, he didn’t seem in a hurry to go against Sasuke’s mom.

A tapping on his window had him looking up to find Kakashi on a branch of a tree right outside, his hand lazily waving back and forth before indicating that he wanted inside. Letting out a huff of breath, Sasuke carefully stood from his bed, grimacing at the pulling of his wound, and made his way to the window. Looking back at his closed door briefly, Sasuke unlocked his window and let Kakashi inside.

“What are you doing?” Sasuke asked.

“Hm?” Kakashi looked around for a moment and took a seat in Sasuke’s desk chair. “Well, your mother has forbidden anyone from stepping foot through your door, excluding herself, of course. So, I came in through the window.”

Sasuke rolled his eyes and returned to his bed, gingerly climbing into it and settling against his pillows. “Why are you climbing through my window? Meaning, what is your purpose for being here?” he added, in no way wanting to hear a smart-aleck response that Kakashi wasn’t able to come through the door.

“I figured you might need help with the portal,” Kakashi said in a bored tone as he flipped through some papers on Sasuke’s desk.

“What kind of help?”

“Well, Obito’s seal is going to keep both sides of the portal closed. So, I came to offer my assistance.”

Sasuke stared at him, arms crossed, disbelieving for a moment before hissing out, “Why didn’t you tell me that _earlier_?” God, all the time he’d wasted!

Kakashi shrugged. “Obito isn’t necessarily going to like what I’m going to do, so I thought I’d skip him ordering me _not to_ by coming by later.”

“What are you going to do?” Sasuke asked after a moment.

Kakashi finally met his gaze. “I’m going to block the seal temporarily.”

Sasuke blinked. “You can do that?” At Kakashi’s nod, he asked, “Does Obito know you can do that?”

Kakashi’s eye crinkled in amusement. “I found no reason to let him know that. Just because he bound me to serve him doesn’t mean he’s privy to all my powers.”

Sasuke couldn’t really tell if there had been any bitterness in that statement, but he couldn’t imagine any demon actually _wanting_ to be in servitude to a demigod – or whatever Obito was. Whatever Sasuke was, too, for that matter. 

“So, are we doing this now?”

Kakashi shook his head. “No, too risky. Plus, you need to rest.” Standing up, Kakashi shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat. “No, we’ll do it tomorrow. Stop by the Fire Temple on your way home from school.”

Sasuke froze at those words, having shoved thoughts of his dead classmates forcibly to the back of his mind, along with the fact that he’d be in school on Monday, the only person who would know that people were missing from their ranks.

Kakashi started to move toward the window, but Sasuke halted him with a soft call of his name. When Kakashi looked at him, Sasuke swallowed and asked, “Will anything I do or say break the… the… _Mugen_ -”

“No,” Kakashi interrupted him. “Not as you are now. But, for your sake, I would try to just forget them and move on.” With that, Kakashi hopped out of the window and into the tree, speedily disappearing as Sasuke scowled at his retreating figure.

Easy for him to say, Sasuke thought. Lost human lives probably meant next to nothing to the demon. But after a moment, Sasuke’s thoughts turned back to that cryptic line Kakashi had delivered – _Not as you are now._ – leaving Sasuke to wonder if he was meant to have some kind of powers, like Obito seemed to possess, and whether that prospect should excite or terrify him.

~*~

_It’s different again – Sasuke wanted it to be, had wished it would be, just once, as he drifted off to sleep – which makes Sasuke wonder if he has some strange control over his own dreams than he would have previously believed._

_But it’s also not a dream of his choosing – he wouldn’t have chosen to dream this – as he’s at his desk in school, eyes drawn to the seats that should be empty but aren’t._

_He hadn’t seen Ino’s body that night, but that only allows his mind to conjure up the hideous sight before him – Ino, sitting in her desk up front, her hair matted and stuck to her face with blood, her skin mottled black and purple, finger-shaped marks around her arms and throat, as she puts on powder from a compact like nothing was fucking wrong._

_And Kiba – Sasuke had never paid him much attention before – at his desk in the back, invisible strings dictating his actions as he crumples bits of paper for a volley of spitballs, his movements creating the chattering noise that reverberates around the room, though no one seems to hear._

_To make it worse, their desks are in the spotlight, the rest of room darkened, allowing Sasuke no room to look anywhere but at them, their actions no different than any other day. It’s agonizing. They’re dead. They’re **dead** , and he’s going to have to sit there and pretend they aren’t._

_But that’s tomorrow. And even though this is a dream, and he doesn’t know with certainty that he can control his dreams, Sasuke wishes desperately that this macabre scene would end._

_A laughing voice seeps in from the shadows, very familiar by now – “Does the littlest Uchiha not like what he sees?”_

_Sasuke wants to retort, wants to fling that smugness back into the dark, but his words are swallowed by his choked-off cry as he watches black flames erupt on Ino’s shoulder and Kiba’s hair and begin to eat away at their bodies, the two continuing in their scripted actions as if nothing is wrong._

_There’s a low hum that practically vibrates the air – “Amaterasu. How interesting.”_

_Sasuke watches the black flames spread to the other students, still somehow bright in the darkness despite their color, and he opens his mouth to scream – because is this one of those things? A premonition? – when it’s all drowned in darkness before the space around him is illuminated in a soft, red-golden light, like normal, warm flames._

_His body in enveloped in red-orange fur, and that booming voice vibrates his bones – “Do not fear what has not happened.”_

_Sasuke shakes himself from his stupor and brings his hands hesitantly to the fur, feeling its soft texture against his skin – which is also odd, for a dream. He turns, and the fur recedes, revealing it to be a tail, and Sasuke is faced with that giant fox from before, sitting on its haunches, its nine tails fanned out majestically._

_His breath hitches – “How are you here?”_

_The large fox head tilts in question – “Why wouldn’t I be?”_

_Sasuke has an epiphany that shouldn’t be one, really – “We’re connected.”_

_The fox reveals its fangs in a sharp grin – “Did you think we weren’t?” And the seal on Sasuke’ stomach glows through his school uniform._

_Sasuke shakes his head – “This is a dream.” As if that conveys accurately what he means._

_The fox hums – “Yes, but dreams are of the mind, a realm for which there are no boundaries between those who are… connected.”_

_Sasuke wonders about that. It sounds slightly off, but he doesn’t have enough information to call the fox on it. Instead, he takes this opportunity to ask more questions about the portal._

_He shifts nervously – “You said to come find you. You mean to go through the portal to where you’re sealed?”_

_The fox chuckles – “Yes. You must learn how the portal works.”_

_Sasuke scowls – “You’re not going to tell me?”_

_The fox hums again – “I don’t know how it works. If you want someone to tell you, you’d have to ask an Uzumaki.”_

_Sasuke growls in frustration – “Look you-” But he stops, because pissing off a powerful demon king doesn’t sound like the best course of action._

_He takes a calming breath – “What’s your name, anyway?”_

_A speculative look crosses the fox’s face – “Why does it matter?”_

_Sasuke crosses his arms and glares slightly – “Like hell I’m calling you King of Hell all the time or Your Majesty or some bullshit like that.”_

_The fox chuckles with something like humor and moves to lie down, its forepaws crossed and its great head lying atop them – “I’ve gone by many names, I suppose, ‘King of Hell’ the most recent of them. The name I was given at my birth… I no longer answer to that name.”_

_Uncrossing his arms, Sasuke doesn’t know what to do with them, so he sits down, forcibly ignoring how much the other’s massive form dwarfs his own – “Then what should I call you?”_

_The fox closes its eyes and grunts – “Whatever you want, I would imagine.”_

_Sasuke is at a loss. He’s never named anything before – except a stuffed animal, he supposes – and the task of naming something as daunting as the King of Hell is, well, daunting._

_It isn’t even a question who holds the power between them. Sealed he may be, but Sasuke knows from reading between the lines that demons and gods alike fear the King of Hell, and he imagines it’s for good reason. So, if he’s to name something like this, it’s going to be a name that allows Sasuke a sense of even footing._

_He looks down in thought and is caught by the still-glowing seal. He knows the pattern intimately, his fingers having traced it unceasingly throughout the years, and he is nearly lost in it as his eyes follow the spiral in the middle. He’d always thought it looked like narutomaki when he was little, wondering if Itachi had been jealous since his brother had a secret obsession with the topping-_

_Sasuke blinks and then looks up at the fox from beneath his lashes – “Do you have this same seal on you?”_

_The fox’s ear twitches – “Yes.”_

_Sasuke smirks – “Then I will call you Naruto.”_

_There’s silence for a moment before the fox – Naruto! – opens one eye and stares at Sasuke – “Eh?”_

_Sasuke lifts a brow – “Got a problem with it?”_

_The fox – Naruto! – lifts its head and lets out a huff of breath – “I only marvel at the irony.”_

_There is silence again, and Sasuke wonders that his sleep is so peaceful that he’s not even close to waking up. He goes back over his conversation so far with Naruto – his lips twitch in amusement – and his thoughts are brought up short when he remembers what was said about the portal._

_He looks up sharply – “What did you mean when you said I’d have to ask an Uzumaki about the portal?”_

_Naruto had set his head down again in the silence, but he turns one blood-red eye Sasuke’s way – “I would think it’s obvious.”_

_Sasuke furrows his brow – “An Uzumaki would know how to open Madara’s portal?”_

_Naruto’s ears flatten at Madara’s name – “What have the Uchiha been spewing these centuries? This is not the work of that poor excuse of a man.”_

_Even though he’d only learned their family history recently, this stuns Sasuke – “Then who did this?”_

_Naruto only stares at him before letting out a gusting breath – a sigh? – “Let me tell you a story.”_

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a general note - while this story may take place in Japan, legit Japanese mythology is by no means at play. So don't let it bother you too much as I make shit up to suit a Naruto-verse.
> 
> I thought about this story as I lay in bed last night, and I let a lot of things play out in my mind. I see some great things in store for this story, and I hope you enjoy the ride!


	5. Chapter 5, in which there is the sealing

Mito calmly poured the tea into her cup, anticipating the warmth and taste and hoping that it would settle her nerves. Hashirama had been so restless lately, and it had rubbed off on her. It took so much energy not to snap at the servants and villagers, and these few moments to herself where she could perform the calming ritual of a tea ceremony centered her and allowed her peace of mind.

“Mito-sama!” someone exclaimed from somewhere in the house, followed by the sound of feet pounding down the outer corridor to her tea room. The shoji slid open, her maidservant hunched over and breathing heavily, outlined by the light of the late afternoon sun.

“By the gods, child, what is wrong?” Mito questioned as she stood from her cushion. 

“It’s Hashirama-sama!” the girl finally got out, tripping over her feet as she stepped inside and falling against Mito, who caught and stabilized her. “He received a message from an Uchiha envoy and left the village!”

Mito paled as the words registered. Damn her stubborn husband! She’d practically begged him to stay away from that monster, and yet Hashirama couldn’t leave well enough alone.

Without further discussion, Mito pulled away from her maidservant and strode hurriedly from her tea room to her armory, the urge to run only halted by the desire to prevent panic from overtaking the household.

As she neared the armory, Mito reached out a hand and touched it to a symbol etched into the wood. It flared under her palm, and the solid wood wall morphed into a shoji door that she slipped through, opening and closing it silently and touching another symbol on the inside of the door to hide it again. She padded across the tatami to the displays of kunai, shuriken, and senbon, grabbing a few of each and hiding them in the cleverly sewn pockets and holsters in her kimono. She also grabbed a few scrolls on display, stuffing them into other hidden areas of her clothing.

She exited the same way she’d entered, making sure the room was secure before heading for the front entrance of the house. She came up short when she saw someone step out of the shadows of the gate entrance, her lips thinning as she faced her brother-in-law.

“Tobirama-nii-san,” she said, politely dipping her head.

“You are going after him?” Tobirama asked, his face set in a scowl, though his tone was not exactly disapproving. 

“Someone must,” she said sternly. “Hashirama is a great fighter, but the Senju clan can be soft when it comes to their loved ones.”

Tobirama made no reply immediately, only regarded her with an eerie calm before giving a brief nod. “No doubt aniki’s judgment is often clouded when it comes to the Uchiha. But you will not go alone.” With that, Tobirama turned on his heel, expecting Mito to follow as he began to run toward the village gates.

Mito gave an annoyed huff before running after him, easily catching up and running even with him. “And do you know where he went?”

“Where else would they go?” he responded, his voice weary and ruffled by annoyance.

Where indeed, Mito thought as they exited the village and headed in the direction of the waterfall valley. But she didn’t sense the oppressive powers of the two clashing in the distance, so maybe Hashirama was doing what he did best and at least buying time for reinforcements to arrive – lecturing others. It was a habit of his that she both adored and despaired over in turns.

It took roughly twenty minutes of jumping through the thick trees that surrounded the village, but the land finally evened out, and it was a swift, though long, run to the river and along its bank to the water’s edge where they noticed Hashirama standing atop the rocky outcrop on their side of the river and Uchiha Madara on the other. Tobirama and Mito came to a sliding stop behind Hashirama.

“Aniki!” Tobirama yelled over the roar of the waterfall. “What are you doing?”

“Calm yourself, Tobirama. I only wish to talk to him.”

“It will never be just talking between you two, Hashirama-san,” Mito added, her hands held out slightly from her sides, her fingers lax and ready to quickly grab a weapon. “Talking will not work on this man.”

Madara laughed loudly before humming in thought. “I would listen to your woman, Hashirama.” He smiled cruelly, and then his black eyes bled to the red of the Sharingan.

“I just don’t understand, Madara!” Hashirama yelled, completely ignoring her and Tobirama. “Why are you so set on destroying your fellow man?”

“You’ll never understand, Hashirama!” Madara swept his right hand out in anger. “You live side by side with these people, and they treat you as an equal!”

“Why is that a bad thing?” Hashirama cried out.

“We are _gods_!” Madara roared, filling the space between them with fury. “We deserve to be honored and prayed to like our brethren in the heavens. Yet we are treated as just extraordinary _men_.” He spat the word like a curse.

“Madara,” Hashirama began, shaking his head. “The days of gods and demons are long gone. Our blood is weak. We cannot even really be called demigods. We _are_ but extraordinary men. But we can use our powers to better mankind and help them through their follies, as well as celebrate their accomplishments!”

Mito tensed as Madara’s face shifted from mild disgust to impassive. She knew Hashirama’s words would only fall on deaf ears, and it was only a matter of time before the men came to blows. That was how it always went, but there was something off about Madara this time, something wild, that worried Mito and only added to her urgency to get her husband away from there.

“Hashirama-san,” she started, but she was kept from uttering another word as a wild wind whipped through the valley, and she watched in growing fear as Madara was engulfed in a blue light.

“Madara! What have you done?” Hashirama cried out, for the blue light was clearly of demonic origin.

“This, Hashirama,” Madara replied calmly, “Is my birthright. I was _born_ with this power – I am chosen by Kaguya to carry on her legacy!”

Then the blue light seemed to explode outward, and Mito watched in horror as a giant made of demonic light towered over them, Madara’s body housed within it, his arms crossed and a smug smile on his face. One arm of the giant moved, swiping down to crush them, and Mito found herself in Hashirama’s arms as he jumped out of the hand’s range. Tobirama joined them, all three watching as the hand receded.

“Aniki,” Tobirama whispered, his voice tinged in disbelief. “How are we to defend against that?”

Hashirama’s frown was severe, and it took him several moments to respond. When he did, it was aimed at Mito. “My dear, did you happen to bring one of your summoning scrolls?” he asked as he set her down.

Mito blinked as she began to rustle through her kimono sleeves. She had, but in her haste, she didn’t know if she’d brought anything that would be able to match Madara’s power. She pulled out the scroll, frowning when the word ‘One’ greeted her. It was powerful, to be sure, but the tanuki was temperamental.

“I only have the Ichibi,” she said, clutching the scroll in her hand.

Hashirama looked at the scroll before nodding. “Summon it,” he demanded. Mito pressed her lips together, biting back a response as she watched him call on his divinity, the dark marks of the gods appearing on his face. He looked at her, determination shining in his eyes, and she nodded. Stepping back, she bit her thumb to draw blood as she unfurled the scroll. 

“Come forth, demon!” she cried as she swiped her bloody thumb across the symbols on the scroll. They began to glow, and from the center of the scroll, a large tanuki appeared, towering over them much as Madara’s giant, its beady eyes moving from right to left before looking down and settling on her and the brothers.

“Eh? What is the meaning of this, Uzumaki she-devil? How dare you call me here!” the demon cried, its tail slapping the ground in agitation, cracking the earth.

“Our apologies, Ichibi-san!” Hashirama cried. “But we are in need of your help!” His hand shot out toward Madara, directing the demon’s attention in that direction. “I ask you to lend me your strength to stop him before he hurts anyone.”

“Pathetic, Hashirama!” Madara yelled. “Asking a demon for help! You shame your ancestors and your gods by begging aid from such a lowly creature!”

“Lowly creature?” the tanuki shrieked. “You’re going to pay for that, Uchiha hell-spawn! I’ll bathe in your blood!” The demon charged Madara’s giant, but it drew the large sword on its hip and slashed at the Ichibi, cutting into the demon’s arm and drawing blood. It shrieked again, staggering backward in surprise.

“Tobirama, get Mito out of here!” Hashirama cried as he jumped up and landed atop the Ichibi’s head. Then he made a few hand signs, and wood erupted from the earth, covering the Ichibi in a makeshift armor. Then the Ichibi charged again, wooden arms sprouting from its armor to grab Madara’s giant and hold it still while the Ichibi’s real arms pummeled the giant mercilessly.

“Hashirama-san!” Mito cried as Tobirama hooked his arm around her waist and carried her away from the battle, her arm outstretched and reaching for her husband. “No!” She struggled against his hold and pounded her hands into his back for the many minutes it took for him to backtrack their route there.

“Mito!” Tobirama called as he rushed back over the plain to the forest’s edge. “We can concentrate more on fighting if you’re not here!”

Mito brought a fist up, glowing with the golden light of her power, and smashed it into his back, sending him crashing to the ground, crushing her underneath him. But only for a moment, as she’d braced herself for impact and quickly shoved him off her. “How brazen! To think you are better warriors than the Uzumaki!” she cried as she made to sprint back toward the battle, the sounds of which could be heard even from their distance.

Tobirama grabbed her arm in a vice grip, swinging her around to glare at her. “It’s not that you’re weak, Mito!” he yelled, causing her to flinch slightly. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “It’s that we love you. You are a fierce warrior, but our feelings for you will divide our attention.”

Mito blinked at that, her heart racing from more than adrenaline. The look in Tobirama’s eyes spoke of more than a familial love – and Mito couldn’t deny that it stirred to life something similar in herself. She didn’t doubt Hashirama’s love for her or hers for him, but it wasn’t the passionate love of lovers. But this…

…Was not the time for it! Shaking her head, Mito pulled her arm from his grasp, quickly placing her hand against Tobirama’s cheek. “I understand, Tobirama-nii-san. But as a warrior and as a wife, I cannot leave him to fight without me.” She would not stoop to pleading with him, but she did hope that he understood that she would not be going back to the village.

“All right, Mito-san,” Tobirama finally said, reaching up to cover her hand on his cheek with his. “But you will not go alone.”

She smiled at that, and they turned together to race back to the battle, growing concerned when the sounds of collisions and explosions gave way to silence. With each minute it took to get back to Hashirama, the dread built in Mito. Even so, she was not prepared for the sight that greeted them.

The earth was torn asunder, so much so that the natural waterfall had been expanded. Dust and smoke filled the air, and bits of wood littered the battlefield, smoldering or still aflame. Hashirama and Madara were nowhere in sight. And neither was the Ichibi.

“Aniki!” Tobirama shouted, and Mito spun around, watching as Tobirama leapt down into the ravine. Mito ran to the edge, looking down to see the Ichibi laid out half in the river and half out. Madara was several yards away, frowning at the Ichibi, and Mito watched as Tobirama took the opportunity to engage him and try to land a surprise killing blow. Except his attack was countered, sending him backward.

“Izuna!” Mito cried, outraged, finally jumping down into the ravine. Izuna was not as great a warrior as Madara, but he was formidable, and if Madara could still fight, Mito and Tobirama might not be able to defend themselves. If the two Uchiha had teamed up against Hashirama…

“Mito-san,” Izuna said calmly as Mito ran toward him. He held up one hand glowing gold, silently asking her to halt her advance. “I am only here to bring Madara-nii-san home.”

“Not until he tells me what happened to Hashirama-san!” she said, her hands clutching at the weapons in her sleeves, preparing to throw them.

Madara glared at her, his eyes back to black but a crazed smile on his face. “I guess it turns out he wasn’t that extraordinary after all.” He began to laugh, and before Mito could respond or attack, Izuna retreated with Madara in tow.

Cursing, Mito spun around and ran toward the Ichibi, her eyes scanning the ground for Hashirama. Tobirama was checking further down the river, and Mito was growing more fearful as the minutes passed.

“Uzumaki she-devil,” the Ichibi said, pulling Mito’s attention from her search. She found the demon’s golden eyes trained on her. “That Uchiha hell-spawn is…” It trailed off. “That power has not been seen in millennia,” it finally continued, “And there is no power in your ranks or on earth that can match it.”

“What are you-”

“If you wish to save your humans,” it interrupted, “You need to call on a power that is feared in both heaven and hell.”

Mito paled at that. She immediately thought of the eight sacred scrolls of the Uzumaki clan that were in her possession and the legendary ninth one that no Uzumaki had ever successfully created.

The Ichibi moved, pulling its paw from underneath its massive body, and unclenched its fist to reveal her husband, badly injured and breathing harshly.

“Hashirama-san!” she cried out, rushing to his side as the Ichibi laid him out on the ground. She knelt in the mud, her hands moving to cradle his face and run fingers through his matted hair. “Hashirama-san!” She felt Tobirama kneel next to her.

Hashirama blinked his eyes open, staring up at the sky before finding Mito’s eyes and smiling sadly. “You were supposed to take her away, Tobirama,” he said, though his eyes didn’t leave hers.

“Mito-san is quite stubborn, aniki, much like you.”

Hashirama laughed quietly as he reached one hand up and wiped a tear from Mito’s cheek, though she hadn’t realized she’d started crying. “I always knew this could happen, my dear. I only regret that I am leaving you behind to protect our people alone.”

Mito sobbed. “Tobirama-nii-san will be with me.”

“Yes, he will. And I know he will protect you well, Mito.” He sighed as his hand fell from her cheek. “Though, I also regret that I could not talk Madara away from this path.” His eyes left Mito’s, and she assumed he locked eyes with his brother. “Promise me, Tobirama, that you will try to help Madara regain who he is.”

“Aniki!”

“Promise me!” Hashirama said, a frown pulling at his trembling lips.

“Hashirama-san,” Mito whispered, bending low over his form. Madara’s crazed smiled flashed behind her closed eyes. “Madara’s soul is lost to us.”

“A soul may get lost, Mito, but it is never irredeemable. My friend is still in there, maybe searching for a way out. I need you and Tobirama to promise that you will try to help him find his way.”

The words felt like lead in her mouth, but she whispered, “I promise,” and pressed her lips against his forehead. Then he took a shuddering breath and grew still in her arms.

She clenched her jaw, her eyes tightly closed, as she tried to hold back her sobs. But after a moment, her sorrow broke forth, a keening wail rising from her chest and echoing across the ravine. She screamed his name over and over, beseeched the gods to bring him back in the same breath she used to rail against them for taking him from her – and she cursed Madara to innumerable hells, silently vowing to tear his soul from his body with her own hands as her promise to her husband burned to ash in her despair.

…

Mito sat quietly in her tea room, the silence of the night her only companion. The moonlight cast square patterns on the floor through the shoji, at which she stared as she contemplated her options.

Hashirama’s funeral had been that morning, though his body had lain in state for a few days, as the villagers came by to pay their final respects. Tobirama had lit the pyre, and Mito had watched as the flames consumed her husband’s flesh and the silk of his white kimono.

Tobirama had tried to offer her some comfort after the funeral, but he knew as well as she that Madara would come for them soon, and he had left to prepare the village for a siege. But Mito was no fool. They didn’t stand a chance against Madara, and so she’d retreated to her tea room to think over the Ichibi’s words and what she needed to do.

It had been talking about the Kyuubi, of course – the highest-ranking demon that even the gods of old feared. The Kyuubi was the only one of the high demon lords that the Uzumaki clan had been unable to make a contract with to be able to summon into battle. And Mito felt she had an inkling as to why.

Which is why she was contemplating what she was about to do very carefully. If she was wrong, she would undoubtedly die. But if she was right, she might still die, but she had a good chance of exacting her revenge on Madara. And with Hashirama so recently torn from her, that seemed to be the only satisfactory course of action.

She waited until the early hours of the morning before silently leaving her tea room and the house and heading to the Uzumaki shrine on the outskirts of the village. She quickly ascended the few steps and slipped into the shrine, where she was greeted by the many faces of the Uzumaki clan masks. The fangs and horns caught any sliver of light they could and gleamed in the dark. Her eyes scanned over them, looking for the right one.

Grabbing it from the wall, she let it hang from her fingers as she moved to the back wall and placed her hand to the spiral symbol etched into the wood. Her hand glowed gold as she unlocked the seal, and a portion of the wall shifted back and away, revealing a set of stairs leading down into the earth.

She began her descent, and as she went, the torches on the walls spontaneous lit, guiding her further into the bowels of the earth. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, the torches continued to light one by one until they illuminated the secret room where all the sacred Uzumaki ceremonies took place. Her eyes traced over the giant summoning circle painted onto the stone floor. With a deep breath, she tossed the mask into the center of the circle and stepped forward until her feet touched the outer edges of it.

She called forth her power, letting it flow through her body and down to her feet, watching as the golden light slipped from her and flowed over the design of the circle. Then she reached into the sleeve of her kimono and retrieved a dagger. She stared at it a moment, a brief flare of doubt making her pause. But then she caught sight of the Senju clan symbol sewn into the silk wrapped around the dagger’s hilt, and all her anger returned. With her lips pressed together grimly, she brought the dagger up and then swiftly down into her side, pushing the blade deep and watching as her blood welled up around it and spilled down her kimono.

She pulled the dagger out, restraining her cry of pain, trying to breathe through it, and lifted the dagger. She flicked it so that her blood arced through the air, splattering across the summoning circle and the mask. The dull golden glow of the circle erupted in blinding light, and when it died down enough for her to open her eyes, Mito was staring at the ghostly form of the Shinigami.

It was large, and its face was the very likeness of the mask, though it carried a dagger in its mouth. The horns could just be seen protruding from its shaggy, white hair that blended with the white kimono that was loosely draped over its translucent, purple skin. The beads in its fist chimed with its movement. It was truly terrifying as it stared at Mito with its dull, narrowed eyes.

It didn’t speak, but Mito knew it was waiting for her to act. So, very carefully, she kneeled until she was able to prostrate herself before it, her hand still tightly grasping the dagger.

“Forgive me, great spirit, for summoning you without a sacrifice available, but I humbly request to speak to your master.”

The Shinigami said nothing, but she could feel its presence more keenly, down into her bones, and she took it to be a manifestation of the spirit’s anger. She trembled where she bowed, unwilling to even lift her eyes to see her death coming. But after a few long, agonizing moments, the presence receded, and she chanced a quick look up.

It was still staring at her, but its free hand was reaching up to take the dagger from its mouth, and before she could duck her head, it swung the blade down across its own stomach, leaving a gaping hole filled with demonic blue light.

Mito stared at it, wide-eyed. She didn’t know what this was; nothing like it had ever been recorded in the clan scrolls. But as she continued to stare, she felt something strange down in her gut, like a tugging, and she felt herself drawn toward the Shinigami. Fearful of what it meant, Mito tried to fight against it, panic slowly overriding sense when her body began to shift over the stone floor. Then a strong gale erupted from the glowing hole, twisting about the room and lifting her body into the air. Mito screamed as she was pulled into what she now guessed was a portal, and then she was falling into space, that demonic blue light all around her.

Suddenly, her body came to a jarring halt, the breath stolen from her lungs as pain raced up her body, radiating outward from the stab wound in her side. She gasped for breath, one hand pressed to her wound and the other clawing at the ground in blind panic.

“And here I thought the human brave enough to demand an audience would be made of tougher stuff,” a low, gravelly voice purred from the darkness.

Startled, Mito whipped her head around, trying to find out where the voice was and, more importantly, if it meant her any harm.

“Oh, maybe I misspoke. That red hair, that power – an Uzumaki.” A gentle, golden light appeared above Mito, spreading out and illuminating the space she occupied until she could make out a large, golden tree with glowing blue fruit. And sprawled lazily at the foot of the tree was a large, many-tailed fox, its forepaws stretched out in front of it and cradling its massive head.

“Kyuubi?” Mito asked breathlessly, finally finding the strength to push herself up, clenching her teeth against the pain in her side. The fox’s lip pulled back in a silent snarl, baring a few of its fangs, though it made no other move. She shifted her body, turning to fully face what she assumed to be the highest-ranking demon in existence.

“Well, what did you want?” the fox finally asked when Mito said nothing further. 

Mito swallowed nervously. Now that she was here, she was having second thoughts asking anything of this powerful demon. She was now truly certain that her death was imminent. As she searched for words, the fox’s eye facing her opened, catching her in its gaze. The red iris of the beast had Madara’s red gaze flashing through her mind, and she fisted her hands as she gathered her courage.

“I am here to ask your assistance in avenging my husband.” The fox’s lip curled again, but it said nothing. She swallowed and continued, “My husband was Senju Hashirama. He was killed by Uchiha Madara, who claims to have inherited the powers of Kaguya. And the Ichibi told me you were our only hope of stopping Madara.”

“And why would I care to help you avenge your husband?”

Well, she didn’t know how to answer that. Probably because there was no answer. It was obvious that the beast didn’t care about helping a human – a partial god, even – with anything. But the hurt and anger that had welled up in her had spurred her on to commit this folly. And she’d probably die without being able to do anything for Hashirama.

She pressed her lips together to prevent her sobs from breaking free, but tears did roll down her cheeks. She leaned forward, one arm anchored in front of her as she cried silently. “He was… such a good man,” she said eventually, more to herself than the demon. “He provided a wonderful home and made sure I never wanted for anything. And Madara ripped him away!”

A sob found its way out of her throat, and she banged her fist against the ground. “And all he was concerned about was saving Madara’s soul. Fool!” She cried harder, no longer caring. “He was dying in his wife’s arms, and all he cared about was saving his friend!”

“Well, that’s interesting,” the beast purred, shocking Mito because she had almost forgotten about it. She looked up to find the fox had stood, its red eyes trained on her. Then it began to walk forward, circling her until it was behind her, its hot breath fanning the loose hairs on the nape of her neck. “Are you angry at this ‘Madara,’ or are you angry at your husband?”

“What?” Mito asked breathlessly, disbelieving that the fox had taken an interest in the situation.

“We both know you didn’t love your husband; I can sense it.”

“No! I did love him!” Mito cried.

“Hm. Perhaps. A love born from respect and admiration. But passion, lust, desire? Oh, no, little Uzumaki. We both know better.”

Mito made a distressed noise in her throat, struggling to keep it from bursting free in a verbal attack on a demon king.

“You resent him, for loving his friend more than you. And yet, I can see it.” The fox chuckled darkly. “The hidden desire for another. For his brother.” Mito’s breath stalled in her throat at that. “Seems selfish, to want his love and his brother’s love at the same time.” A tail appeared in her peripheral, the tip lightly touching and stroking just under her chin. “Lucky for you, I tend to indulge the selfish – the price they pay is always so sweet.”

Mito pulled her head away, looking over her shoulder to glare at the beast. “I am ready to give my life to avenge my husband.”

The fox backed away from her, a chilling grin stretching its lips. “Oh, you misunderstand me, girl. I will not be granting your wish to avenge your husband. I’m going to fulfill his wish of saving his friend’s soul to forever symbolize the lowly status you held in his heart.”

Mito felt bile build at the back of her throat, but she swallowed it down. “If you’re not going to grant my wish, I owe you nothing.”

The fox laughed loudly at that, its tails swishing back and forth frantically. “The depth of your ignorance is staggering. You made a _promise_ , didn’t you? And a god should never go back on her word – even one as watered-down as you.” The fox’s eyes flitted over her shoulder, and Mito looked forward and saw the Shinigami floating in front of the strange tree. “And you owe him a soul for summoning him to the mortal realm.” She felt that horrid, hot breath on her neck again. “And he wants yours.”

The fox backed away. “Go back. When this ‘Madara’ next appears before you, I will aid you in your fight. And when it’s over, your soul belongs to the Shinigami.”

Mito struggled to her feet and turned to face the demon king. Her harsh breathing leveled out after a moment, and she stood as tall as she could. “I already told you that I am prepared to die.”

“Die, yes. But when the Shinigami consumes a soul, it never returns, little godling. Your soul will never be reborn.”

Mito stood stunned at that, could only stare at the fox’s evil visage as it chuckled darkly at her surprise. It lifted its head slightly, maybe some sign to the Shinigami, because Mito found herself in the air again, pulled backward through the portal of blue light and dropped back onto the stone floor of the ceremony room.

She didn’t even feel the pain. She could only lay in a daze at what she had wrought. The Kyuubi was going to appear on the earth once again and wreak only the gods knew what damage, expressly to save the man that Mito wanted dead with such passion that she had damned her own soul to destruction. 

But so be it. It might all be worth it to save mankind from Madara’s wrath. Perhaps she should focus on that silver lining and hope that she could be forgiven for it all in the end.

…

And in the end, she lay near death, her leg and a few other bones broken from the fallout of not only battling the fierce warriors of the Uchiha clan but also the clash of titans between Madara and the Kyuubi.

Madara had attacked in the dead of night, flattening a portion of the village and laughing at Mito and Tobirama’s shock and anger. But as he’d advance for another attack – aimed at them – the space that stretched between them and Madara had shimmered and ripped, and from the massive rend appeared the Kyuubi. Madara had been shocked and outraged, and an epic battle that had endangered Mito’s life more than once had commenced.

But that and her current pains were secondary to what she was witnessing right now. The Kyuubi had fallen, Madara’s power seemingly too much for the demon king, and Mito couldn’t believe it. The legends had said that the Kyuubi’s war with Kaguya had lasted years, and yet Madara had felled the great beast in mere hours.

“And this is why demons are no better than humans,” Madara said mockingly. “This is why this world should belong to the gods alone.”

“Be careful of what you say, Uchiha,” the Kyuubi growled as it struggled to stand. “Or I may change my mind.”

The odd statement made Madara tilt his head in question, but it caused something to click in Mito. The difference between this battle and the beast’s battle with Kaguya was that the Kyuubi had actually been trying to kill the goddess. He was lacking that killing intent with Madara – because he was trying to save him like Hashirama wanted!

“What are you thinking?!” she cried out. “Kill him! Forget Hashirama’s wish!”

The Kyuubi ignored her, but Madara stared at her for a moment before those red eyes focused on the beast again. “So, the Uzumaki called you to this battle? I had wondered.” He was silent a moment before he released his giant and landed on his feet by the Kyuubi’s large body. He stretched out his hand, his fingers glowing blue with demonic power. “Well, no matter. But I’m going to ensure that no one will ever summon you again.” He touched his hand to the Kyuubi’s exposed stomach, and light flared up briefly. Nothing seemed to happen at first, but then the Kyuubi started to fade at the edges, as if disappearing. 

“What have you done?” Mito cried, trying to pull her body closer to them. She didn’t get far before her path was blocked by Madara’s brother.

“Please, Mito-san, just die peacefully,” he said. “Otherwise, I cannot guarantee that aniki will go easy on you.”

Mito spit at him. “Go to hell.”

Izuna kneeled and grabbed her hair that had fallen from her buns, jerking her head back so that their eyes met. “I tried,” he said, his right arm with his sword pulling back to deliver the killing blow. But before he could, Tobirama appeared behind him and sunk his own sword in Izuna’s back, the blade going through cleanly and clinking against the ground. Izuna’s surprise showed on his face, and then he coughed up blood that landed on Mito’s face.

Izuna twisted away, pulling his body off Tobirama’s sword as Tobirama spun the other way and then chased after Izuna. As they moved their battle to the side, Mito caught sight of Madara, his eyes wide and face pale after having seen Tobirama skewer his brother. And it was a death blow, Mito knew – if he didn’t die now, he most certainly would in a short amount of time, and Madara knew it, too.

“Izuna!” Madara cried out in rage, no longer caring about the Kyuubi as he followed behind Tobirama and his brother, leaving Mito panting and bleeding on the ground and the Kyuubi slowly disappearing.

“Uzumaki,” the Kyuubi called, and Mito lifted her head. “Can you do something about this seal?”

Mito blinked, stunned for a moment at the question, before she started crawling over to the beast. It was painful, and every second she was afraid that Madara would come back, but she didn’t stop and eventually found herself pressing against the surprisingly soft fur of the Kyuubi. She gave herself a moment to rest and catch her breath before pushing back and surveying the seal.

She paled at the sight before her. It was an Uchiha seal, a Sharingan pattern, but unlike any she had ever seen. Instead of the customary straight tomoe that resided in Madara’s eyes, this looked like a blooming flower with interwoven loops. But even though it looked different, she was sure it was the same as any other Sharingan seal – unbreakable.

Mito swallowed. “This type of seal has no key,” she said. “I can’t undo it.”

The Kyuubi grunted. “That doesn’t surprise me.” His large red eye looked down on her. “But can you change it?”

She looked up in surprise. That was a master-class trick, changing a seal into something else. Her grandfather had started to train her to be a master before her wedding, but the training had halted until she’d birthed Hashirama’s heirs – something that had yet to happen and never would.

But she had to try. Madara may win the day, but if the Kyuubi had a chance to come back later, then it could exact revenge at that time.

With that in mind, Mito lifted her shaking arms and pressed her palms against the seal, calling up her powers until the bright golden light flowed from her hands to the black lines of the seal. With all the strength she could muster, she willed the lines of the blooming flower to shift and change. Her whole body hurt, and she felt like she couldn’t get enough air, but she could see the lines shifting the tiniest bit and redoubled her efforts.

“You need to go faster,” the Kyuubi said. She didn’t spare the energy to respond, but the look on her face must have spoken for her. “You need to release your chakra.”

That startled Mito, though maybe it shouldn’t have. Of course, the demon king would recognize the mark on her forehead. And yes, it stored a vast amount of power, but if she released it, she would die. Though… she hadn’t forgotten that the Shinigami would claim her soul at the battle’s end anyway, so maybe it didn’t matter.

Taking a deep breath, Mito closed her eyes and focused on the chakra on her forehead, willing the physical and mental barriers away. She felt a small bit of power trickle down and flow to her hands. It wasn’t enough, so she threw her fear away and tore the remaining barriers down, crying out when her body was flooded with godly powers she’d never experienced before. Golden light erupted from her palms, and she could suddenly shift the lines of the seal a little easier.

She pushed them outward to make a large circle of signs, redirecting the intent of the seal. The Kyuubi would still be sealed away, but instead of to an unknown place with no way out, the seal would send him back to the one place Mito knew – that strange tree. Then she added to the seal, her clan’s symbol, making the seal a portal. When she was done, she sat back with a tired smile.

“It’s done,” she whispered and looked up at the Kyuubi. “You’ll still be sealed, but now there’s a key.” She frowned. “However, because the base seal is an Uchiha seal, only the Uchiha can reveal and use the key.” And what Uchiha would willingly free the Kyuubi?

“You leave that to me,” the Kyuubi said, as if she’d said that aloud.

Mito opened her mouth to ask what it meant, but she was cut off by a searing pain. She looked down in wonder at the large blue sword that protruded from her chest. Her blood coated the seal on the Kyuubi’s stomach and dribbled from her mouth. Then the blade retreated, and she fell against the demon king.

“What have you done?” Madara yelled behind her, and she laughed haltingly. With the last of her strength, she pushed away from the Kyuubi and landed on her back, her blood continuing to flow from her body and soak into the ground.

“He will return,” was all she could say as she looked at Madara’s upside-down form encased in his upside-down giant. She coughed up more blood.

The look on Madara’s face was worth it, she thought. Shock and fear.

“I’m coming for your soul, Madara. A promise is a promise, and I never go back on my word,” the Kyuubi growled. “I will have your clan live in fear of my return.” And then it was gone, and an eerie silence fell on the battlefield. 

Madara shouted out in rage and jumped down, his hand immediately grasping Mito’s throat. “What did you do?”

Mito laughed, a crazed sound even to her own ears. “He’ll come back and end this,” she rasped out. “And the best part?” She laughed again, even as Madara’s fingers tightened on her throat. “He’ll use an Uchiha to exact his revenge!” From over Madara’s shoulder, Mito saw the air shimmer, and the Shinigami appeared, its maw open and the dagger poised to slash in its hand. 

She hoped Tobirama survived. She hoped she’d be forgiven for all her transgressions, even if her soul perished. And last of all, she hoped Madara had not a single moment of peace for the rest of his wretched life.

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh heh heh. Did that answer some questions? Did it spark new ones? I swear I have a plan! And I look forward to your feedback!


	6. Chapter 6, in which there is a meeting

Sasuke watched Kakashi paint strange symbols in a circle around him, a cold sense of dread filling his stomach. He had no idea what to expect when Kakashi finally blocked Obito’s seal, but the thought of potentially meeting the King of Hell in person had kept thoughts of Ino and Kiba’s empty desks at the peripheral of his awareness during the day.

Well, almost. As he’d passed the dining room where his family still breakfasted that morning, Kakashi had eyed him from his spot at Obito’s feet, his one eye reminding Sasuke of their meeting. And so, he’d spent his walk to school wondering what he’d tell his mom for being late getting home. But as he’d slid the classroom door open and stepped inside, his eyes had fallen on Ino’s desk, and his nightmare from the previous night had assaulted him.

But it had quickly been replaced by thoughts of Naruto and everything he’d shared with Sasuke – effectively leading Sasuke to thoughts of how, if Kakashi really could stymie Obito’s seal, Sasuke could that very afternoon be staring down the King of Hell. And those thoughts had plagued him throughout the day (though maybe ‘plagued’ wasn’t the right word, because while he knew he should be terrified, he also felt – just the tiniest bit – excited).

And then that excitement had slowly dwindled as he’d stared up the towering stairs that led to the temple – as he’d gazed at the burned-out wreckage of the temple itself – as he’d been pressed down to sit on the floor by Kakashi’s hand on his shoulder – as he’d watched the beginnings of an ancient demon tongue start forming beneath the brush in Kakashi’s hand.

“All right, Sasuke,” Kakashi said, breaking Sasuke from his thoughts. He stepped over the completed circle and began to paint more symbols. “Take off your shirt.”

“What?” Sasuke asked, surprised.

“I have to paint some symbols on your skin. Lose the shirt.”

Frowning slightly, Sasuke reached up to pull his tie loose, tugging it over his head before slipping off his uniform jacket. Then he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, pulling the ends from his waistband and letting it slide off his arms and to the floor. He balled them all together and tossed them outside of the ring. As he did this, his eyes tracked Kakashi’s movements, watching as the brush came closer and closer to him.

Kakashi finished painting his symbols on the floor, four prongs of symbols pointing inward from the circle and seeming to reach for his body. “Place your hands on the floor, with the tips of your middle fingers touching these two points.” He motioned to two of the prongs, and Sasuke placed his hands as instructed, bent over his crossed legs and hoping this went quickly.

Kakashi then began to swiftly paint more symbols up Sasuke’s right arm and then his left, and Sasuke felt them meet in another circle of symbols that surrounded his uncle’s seal. He heard the clatter of the paint pot and brush crashing against the floor, and then Kakashi’s hand was on his seal, and a blue light – one that brought giants and demons to Sasuke’s mind – suffused the room.

There was heat and pain, Sasuke’s teeth and eyes clenched tightly, his concentration solely on _not_ screaming until his throat bled. And then Kakashi’s hand was ripped from his shoulder, and Sasuke fell over to the floor, curled up into a ball and going back and forth between panting and sobbing.

And then… it was there – a distant but growing _doki doki_ that was steady, an ostinato to the rapid and irregular tattoo of his heartbeat that eventually lulled his heart into the same steady rhythm. And the beat grew stronger, deeper, rattling his bones in a way he didn’t know he’d missed, didn’t know he’d _craved_ , and tears welled up in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.

“Sasuke?” he heard Kakashi call distantly. “Sasuke?” Then a hand was on his shoulder, Kakashi’s concerned gaze looking down on him. With a groan and a sob, Sasuke sat up slowly, leaning his weight against Kakashi’s kneeling form. “Is everything all right?”

Another sob escaped Sasuke’s mouth, but this was one born of relief and building euphoria. A small smile stretched his lips as the sobs came faster, harder. “It’s… back…” he breathed out shakily, the sheer disbelief that he’d ever thought he was okay without it overwhelming him.

“Back? What’s back?”

Sasuke pressed his face into Kakashi’s chest, his eyes closed, feeling that other heartbeat, basking in the _rightness_ of having it there. But then he was pulled away, Kakashi’s hands like vices on his shoulders. Sasuke opened his eyes to meet Kakashi’s stern gaze.

“The heartbeat,” he murmured. He placed a hand over his heart.

“Was your heartbeat gone?” Kakashi asked in confusion.

Sasuke shook his head. “The other one. It left when Obito placed his seal. It’s back now.” He felt Kakashi’s whole body stiffen at that and watched as he slowly lifted his hand to his eyepatch and removed it. Sasuke blinked at what he saw – he’d honestly thought the patch covered an empty socket, but instead there was a whole eye, with a blazing blood-red iris and three black tomoe spinning lazily. 

_Sharingan_ , it came to him suddenly, a vivid image of a crazed Madara confronting Mito, grip tight around her throat. The thought to ask Kakashi about it passed as quickly as it came when he saw Kakashi’s face pale as his red eye roamed over his body, focusing on the seal-portal on his stomach.

“Sasuke,” Kakashi murmured. “Has anyone talked to you about this second heartbeat?” His mismatched eyes glanced up into Sasuke’s face.

He shook his head. “I tried to ask when I was little, but it upset Mother so much that I dropped it. I… I was just content to have it. I didn’t care what it meant.” His eyes lowered to stare at the floor. “When Obito placed his seal… it went away, and I was…” _Devastated_ was the only word he could think for what he had felt. He clearly remembered crying every day for months, several times a day, because he’d felt… empty. Incomplete.

Kakashi sighed and sat back, placing his eyepatch back over his strange eye. He rubbed his hands over his face and grunted. When they dropped, Kakashi gave him a helpless stare. “I’m not sure how to explain, really.”

That feeling of dread returned. Sasuke swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “What is it?”

Kakashi sighed again. “Sasuke. That heartbeat… I think it belongs to His Majesty. It makes sense, I guess. The prophecy says he will enslave an Uchiha to wreak his vengeance, and a soul bond is the surest way to claim you. Well, other than-” He cut himself off. “Anyway, the bond must have been forged when the portal appeared. Then it disappeared when the seal cut off the portal.”

Sasuke placed his hand over his heart again, shaking his head furiously. “No, it’s always been with me. Since before the portal. I… I can’t be sure, but… I think it’s been with me since birth. It feels… like a part of me, like it… completes me.” His voice had faded to a whisper at the end, uncertain what the wide-eyed expression on Kakashi’s face meant.

“That’s impossible,” Kakashi whispered. “Soul bonds have to be mutually accepted.”

“What do you mean?”

Kakashi shook his head slowly. “A soul bond should only be done between matured souls and must be accepted by both. It’s not possible to forge one at birth. No one has that power.”

“Not even the King of Hell?”

“No! Souls are in the care of the gods! No demon – king or slave – could or would dare to trifle with them!”

The words slammed into Sasuke, pulling at something at the back of his mind. Kakashi’s claim resonated with something inside his head, but he couldn’t quite recall what it was. Whatever it was, it wasn’t important right now, though, so Sasuke shook his head and returned his attention to Kakashi.

“So, what does the soul bond mean?”

“It means that your soul and his soul are now one. It is said that they will travel through time together, if they wish to reincarnate. They will call to each other and will never be apart. Unless the gods break the bond.”

Sasuke frowned. “That’s it? What purpose does it serve?”

Kakashi laughed. “For demons, it’s a way to share powers and boost strength, in a way. For the gods, who knows? I don’t really know that any gods have ever forged a soul bond. We demons did it during the wars, to match the powers of the gods we battled.”

“So, it’s not a romantic bond, like soulmates or something?”

Kakashi laughed again. “No, dear boy. That would be a different bond altogether.” His gaze turned serious. “Now, enough chitchat. We have a mission to complete. But if you can successfully travel through the portal, maybe you can ask about the bond with His Majesty.”

Sasuke exhaled slowly and moved his legs around to sit cross-legged. “Okay. How do I do this?”

“How should I know?” Kakashi asked, his hands up in a careless shrug. “Just meditate or something. Maybe something will happen.”

Sasuke glared at him, very close to growling and calling the man an idiot, but he took a shaky inhale instead, pushing his irritation away for now, and closed his eyes. And all he saw was the darkness behind his closed lids. He didn’t know the first thing about meditation, had never cared to learn from his father and brother, so his irritation began to rise – at himself this time.

With another inhale, Sasuke tried to concentrate, but he didn’t know what he was supposed to concentrate _on_ , and just as the irritation started morphing into anger, he caught the rhythm of the other heartbeat – _Naruto’s heartbeat_.

He felt the tension drain from his body, and he just started counting the beats, comforted by the steady thump. But after a while, he noticed a faint echo. Not his heartbeat, not a third heartbeat – it sounded like Naruto’s heartbeat was reverberating off something. It was like the heart was in a big room, the sound bouncing off the walls.

And as that thought hit him, he became cognizant of _himself_ in a way he never had, an image of his body inside the giant room that suddenly merged with his consciousness.

He looked around himself, stunned, but maybe this was normal, what meditation did. The room – which wasn’t a room, more like an endless stretch of space – was dark, though an eerie, sourceless green light lit the space enough to see the outline of his arms as he looked at them and the fog that rolled along the floor.

Sasuke looked up from his arms and around, turning his body to face what seemed to be a corridor, lit by the same green light. After a moment’s pause, Sasuke cautiously stepped forward and began the trek down the corridor. It seemed long and winding, though he had no sense of time or direction in this strange place, but he eventually made it to the end, to what seemed to be an actual room with solid boundaries, the far most of which marked with the symbol on his stomach, illuminated a bright blue.

He walked toward it, and the closer he got, Sasuke could see that the blue light was behind the symbol, and the symbol itself was etched onto what looked like a wall of suspended water. He hesitantly reached out, pressing one finger against the symbol, and watched as it rippled outward before stilling.

He suddenly remembered what Naruto had shown him – the moment Mito had summoned the Shinigami and the blue portal that had opened in its gut. This looked like that! The blue light was the portal! So, the wall of water was the seal.

Steeling himself, Sasuke pulled his arm back, hand fisted, and swung it forward in a traditional right-straight, hoping to punch through the seal to the portal. But he was rebuffed, his body reeling backwards as a bright light exploded from where his fist had made contact.

When the light receded and he was able to look at the portal again, he was met with the amused gaze of Uzumaki Mito. Sasuke’s eyes widened as he took in the familiar form – vibrant red hair pulled into buns on the sides of her head and a long, white kimono with accents of blue and gold that, rather than hiding her figure, emphasized it.

“Who do we have here?” she asked, a thin red brow quirked up as she folded her hands inside her sleeves.

Sasuke couldn’t think past her sudden appearance enough to speak at first. When words finally came, rather than his name, Sasuke blurted out, “Aren’t you dead?”

“I’m sure I am,” she returned. “I am merely a projection, a bit of my power weaved into the seal to prevent unnecessary tampering.” She looked him over. “Are you an Uchiha? Do you have the key?”

Sasuke shook his head slowly. “I am an Uchiha, but I don’t have the key.” Didn’t even know where to begin searching for it, to be honest.

“Then why are you here?”

Sasuke swallowed nervously. “I, uh, am trying to find the King of Hell. He told me to come find him.”

“Told you?” she murmured as her eyes narrowed. “So, you must be the chosen one. But you don’t have the key?” He shook his head. “Then I have no choice but to let you through.” And her left hand came out of her sleeves and reached behind her, pressing into the very middle of the swirl. Her hand glowed gold, and the swirl began to move, slowly unfurling and opening a small hole. 

Sasuke watched it, mesmerized, but then he felt himself being pulled forward, remembering the same thing happened to Mito, and he was dragged off his feet by the force of the strong gale that erupted from it and rushed headlong into the opened portal.

It was open space all around, made up of the demonic blue light with which he was quickly becoming familiar. He spun haphazardly, unable to get his bearings until he could only shut his eyes tightly and wait for the crash landing.

And it came, later than he would have thought, but his body finally impacted with something, and he curled in a ball, groaning as the pain washed over him.

“You would think my guests would eventually learn how to land,” came a rumbling voice from behind him, and Sasuke’s eyes popped open.

He was immediately greeted by a similar darkness from before, deep and endless, but illuminated from an unknown source. Breathing deeply, Sasuke rolled over and pushed himself into a sitting position, finding himself facing the large fox demon – much larger than it had ever been in any of his dreams – sprawled at the base of a giant tree.

Sasuke’s eyes flitted to it briefly, taking in the gold trunk and shiny gold leaves that gleamed in the blue light given off by the several large fruits hanging from the branches like apples. But he returned his gaze to the demon king, his breath stalling in his lungs at the sharp gaze that greeted him.

“You’re even more beautiful in person,” Naruto grumbled, and Sasuke finally realized that he was as undressed as his real body was, and he quickly folded his arms across his bare chest and hunched in on himself. Naruto chuckled at his modesty, a dark rumble that rattled his bones.

Sasuke lifted his chin, calling up what little courage he could. “I have questions.”

Naruto tilted his head. “I have no doubt.”

Naruto didn’t say anything else, and Sasuke took it as invitation to begin his inquiry. “Oh, um,” he stuttered, suddenly wondering what he wanted to know first out of everything he wanted to know. There was just so much, and it was all important. “Well, what was it you showed me last night?”

“Mito’s memories,” Naruto responded easily.

“How can you show me someone’s memories?”

A tail flicked back and forth as Naruto hummed. “All memories belong to me, if I care to claim them. When the Shinigami claimed her soul, her memories became mine.”

Sasuke frowned at that. It was just another piece of a puzzle too large to determine where it went. “The prophecy my uncle talked about – it was what Mito told Madara, right? That you’d choose an Uchiha to open the portal and wreak your vengeance against Madara’s clan.”

“You weren’t paying attention,” Naruto chided him. “My goal was to save Madara’s soul, wasn’t it? Don’t let Mito’s delirium mask the truth.”

“But… Madara is dead. What good would it do for you to return now, when you can’t possibly keep your promise?” Sasuke asked.

“I _always_ keep my promises, boy,” Naruto growled lowly. “And I never said I needed to be released to save his soul, did I?”

“Then how-”

“I claimed his soul,” Naruto said over him, a note of finality in his voice. Sasuke had the feeling he’d say no more on the subject unless Sasuke figured out more of the mystery on his own.

“So, you don’t need me? You want nothing to do with me?” Sasuke asked.

“Well, now, I didn’t say that,” Naruto drawled, and his large red eyes moved over Sasuke’s body again. Sasuke felt a blush burn on his cheeks, and he looked to the side, away from that burning gaze. 

He gazed into the endless darkness, and as he looked, a line of blue light began to appear from behind Naruto’s tails, flowing and growing until it was a river of light. On the opposite bank, a red orb appeared, hovering in the air. From his peripheral, Sasuke saw Naruto turn his attention to it.

“What timing,” he muttered in irritation. He watched the orb with Sasuke for several minutes, but then he barked out, “Well, make up your mind, or I’ll make it up for you!”

The orb seemed to shiver in place, and then it began a slow crossing over the river. As it crossed, Sasuke watched, amazed, as the red began to bleed out of it, and when it was on their side of the river, it was a shining orb of brilliant white. _Pure_.

“Well, be off, then,” Naruto grumbled, and the orb slowly faded from sight. Soon, the river did, too.

Sasuke blinked and looked at Naruto. “What just happened?” Naruto stared at him for a few silent moments, to the point that Sasuke thought he should rescind the question, before he clicked his tongue and turned his gaze away.

“That was a soul. When a soul is released from its vessel, it goes to the Pure Land. And most souls choose to stay there. But some souls find no comfort in the Pure Land and wish to reincarnate. Perhaps they have unfinished business, perhaps there are no loved ones in the Pure Land to meet them. Whatever the reason, they want to go back. And to do so, they must cross the river.”

“And the river… purifies the soul?” Sasuke asked, remembering how it had changed from red to white.

“In a sense,” Naruto said. “The river strips it of its memories of the previous life. And the soul is reincarnated as a blank slate and starts all over.” Naruto grinned sharply, his teeth gleaming in the tree’s light. “Of course, they don’t know about that part.” Sasuke gasped involuntarily, and Naruto turned the sharp grin on him. “There is always a price to pay, boy.”

It was a perfect segue into the other things Sasuke wanted to ask, but Kakashi’s words were suddenly ringing in his ears: _Souls are in the care of the gods! No demon – king or slave – could or would dare to trifle with them!_

The pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

“You’re a god, aren’t you?” Sasuke whispered, his eyes wide. 

Naruto’s grin widened, and he slowly stood to all fours, his nine tails whipping lazily behind him. He began to glow gold, the light brightening until Sasuke had to close his eyes and hide them behind his hand. It was warm, the light, almost tangible against his skin, and then it was gone. Cautiously, he opened his eyes and lowered his hand. Standing at the base of the tree was no longer the fox, but a man.

This man was _golden_ – he _glowed_. He wore gold pants and a black shirt under a gold robe that trailed along the floor and had a high collar. The shirt’s front was emblazoned with a golden circle symbol, and Sasuke saw black mirrors of the symbol on the robe’s upper sleeves. The man’s golden hair stood on end, it seemed, two large forelocks sticking up as if part of the golden crown running across the man’s forehead. A character Sasuke didn’t recognize was in the center of the crown. He held a black staff, and behind him hovered six black orbs.

And Sasuke truly believed he was standing before a god.

“An eternity, Sasuke,” the man – Naruto – said as he stepped forward. The rings at the top of the staff chimed as he moved. “It’s been an eternity since I’ve been banned from heaven, and almost no one has figured it out. All I have ever been known as is the demon fox.” He canted his head to the side. “Well, not that I’m _not_ a demon fox.”

Sasuke looked up as Naruto stood towering over him, didn’t know what to say or do in this moment. Naruto reached down slowly, his free hand held out in offer.

“You’re not the god of death, are you?” he blurted out. It would make sense; he’d just seen Naruto ferrying a soul or whatever, after all.

Naruto laughed, his voice deep and husky. “In a sense. Life and death are mine to command, more so than any other god. But I will not hurt you.”

Sasuke hesitated another moment before grabbing the hand offered and being pulled off the ground. Naruto was still taller than him, but their eyes were considerably closer than they were before, and Sasuke gasped softly at the molten golden color of Naruto’s eyes.

“What god are you?” Sasuke asked shakily, trying to ignore that Naruto still held his hand.

“I am the god of souls, Sasuke,” Naruto whispered into the small space between them.

And pieces of another puzzle fell into place, and the picture was staggering, so much so that Sasuke felt his knees weaken.

“Madara sought reincarnation, didn’t he?” Sasuke asked.

“So smart,” Naruto purred, leaning down to nuzzle at Sasuke’s hair. “And when he crossed the river, I claimed his soul.”

Sasuke stilled. “Like, a soul bond?” he asked, because it would _explain so much_.

Naruto pulled away and gazed into his eyes, his face a solemn mask. “No, Sasuke. As soon as his soul crossed the river, he lost everything that made him _Madara_. He would never be able to return to Earth the monster he’d become, which fulfilled my promise. But, on a whim, I claimed his soul – meaning I disallowed the soul to reincarnate, and I almost gave it to the Shinigami.”

“But you didn’t?”

Naruto’s gaze seemed to become more intense. “No. Because when I held that soul, it was somehow… purer than any soul I had ever held before. I gazed into every life it had ever been and the potential lives it could one day be… and it moved me. I wanted it for my own.” His hand released Sasuke’s and cupped Sasuke’s cheek gently, almost reverently. “I bound it to my own, and let it go, waiting century after century for it to cycle through. And it has finally returned to me, as you.”

Naruto’s hand was suddenly gone, and he whirled away from Sasuke. “What irony that my bonded soul has returned to me as that man’s descendant, that you are the Uchiha meant to open the portal and free me.” He looked at Sasuke over his shoulder. “But perhaps that was always meant to be. I would have to ask Fate.”

Sasuke couldn’t speak, couldn’t _move_ at the information swirling through his head – that Naruto really had created a soul bond with him even _before_ his birth – that his soul used to be Madara’s – that Naruto was a god – that Naruto had touched him so tenderly.

“Open the portal,” he finally murmured, unsure why, but it was the one thing that kept coming back to him out of everything Naruto had revealed. “Open the portal!” His head shot up, locating Naruto just a few steps away, and he reached out to clutch at the golden robe. “The nine! What about them? Why do they want me to open the portal? Why do they want you?”

“Oh, them,” Naruto said carelessly, removing his other hand from the staff and stretching both arms above his head. “I’m not too sure, but if I had to guess, they want me to release Kaguya’s soul.”

Sasuke’s eyes widened. “But you can stop them, right? They’re after me to get to you, but you can stop them.”

Naruto turned around to face him again, and a predatory grin spread across his face. Sasuke shivered slightly. The fangs were gone, but it made the expression no less terrifying.

“Of course. But, my dear Sasuke, you’d have to pay the price.”

Yes, he hadn’t forgotten that part. He swallowed nervously, ready to ask what the price would be for the god’s protection, but before he could, the portal opened above him and forced him upward. Scared, not sure what was happening, he reached out for Naruto, but the god only watched him sadly as he slipped through the portal and it closed in front of his eyes.

He was hurled back through the blue-lit space and the small opening in the seal, Mito’s shade nowhere to be seen. He landed on his ass on the fog-covered floor of his psyche, and then he was rudely thrust back into his conscious body, blinking rapidly at Kakashi’s frantic face.

“Sasuke!” Kakashi yelled, hauling Sasuke up by his arms. “Obito is calling. There’s trouble. We have to go.”

Disoriented, Sasuke scrambled to understand what was going on, confusedly grabbing at his clothes and struggling to pull on his shirt as Kakashi pushed him out of the temple. His mind was still with Naruto, reeling over everything they had discussed, but the panic in Kakashi’s movements finally caught up with him.

“What’s happening?” he asked as they ran swiftly down the temple stairs.

“Not sure,” Kakashi said as he moved back and curled his arm around Sasuke’s waist. Then he jumped into the air, and Sasuke yelped as he threw his arms around Kakashi’s neck. Kakashi executed a quick succession of jumps, and as they got closer to Sasuke’s house, they both immediately noticed the plumes of black smoke curling into the sky.

Kakashi landed, jarring Sasuke harshly. Obito immediately pulled Sasuke behind him, but not before he caught sight of the fiery remains of his house and nine silhouettes standing before it.

“Mom, Dad!” he screamed, trying to run past Obito, but the man had a strong grip on his arm.

“Don’t waste your breath, boy,” one of the figures said, stepping forward. “The dead cannot hear you.”

The words tore through Sasuke viciously, and he began to shake his head in denial. His knees buckled, and a searing pain speared through his skull. His eyes began to burn, and he brought his hands up to press against his temples. He couldn’t stand the pain, the burning, couldn’t handle the truth before him, and he tossed his head back and _screamed_.

 

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait on this! I have very specific ideas for how this story plays out, and sometimes it's hard to envision how to bring the thoughts to life.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter (and the slight hint of NaruSasu)! Can anyone guess what's going to happen next? I do give partial credit, lol. And, as an FYI, Naruto's god form is like Kurama chakra mode 2, after they become the 2-man team, only as a grown man. 
> 
> Also - it's a little late, but the title of this fic is a reference to Bradbury's novel. If you thought it was from Harry Potter - shame on you! J/K LOL :-)


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